A night of fulfilled desires
by sevenofmine
Summary: Due to increasing attacks in Mirkwood, an army of both Rivendell and woodland elves has started to fight against evil. All seems lost when the two Blue Wizards free Morgoth from The Void. Explicit sex scenes, slash, incest, various fetishes. Elrond/ Legolas. Sexless version also available.
1. The bath

**Warning:**

**Explicit sex scenes. Not for readers under 18. A sex-less version can be found under the name "The Second Prophecy of Mandos".**

**Sorry that the chapter is so long. There was no way to split it into halves.**

**My first LOTR/ Hobbit fanfiction. I do not own anything.**

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**The following chapters do not necessarily depict normal or healthy sexual activities. Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance. Please do not take any of these chapters for practical inspiration.**

**Content warning for the whole story (not all chapters include all tags): sex, dominance, wet play, BDSM, abuse, heavy violence/ torture, slash, threesomes.**

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Chapter 1

When Lord Elrond looked up, he could not process what he saw. He could not identify single individuals, and the colours around him blurred into smear that resembled the paintings of when his sons had been young and played with the colours that they had found in Lindir's study. After a few seconds, his eyes recognised the shape of Orc bodies in various stages of grey with splashes of red blood wetting their skin and the grass on which they lay. To his dismay, he now realised how many of his own kind were among the dead.

He started counting when he walked the battle field, stepping over bodies and lose body parts, avoided treading in the bigger puddles of blood. It was a futile endeavour as his shoes and his robe were soaked in the red liquid already.

"The enemy is dead," Glorfindel confirmed loudly, as if the piles of orc flesh were not indication enough.

"And so are many of our people," remarked Elrond, though in a rather low voice. He sighed deeply. So much sorrow they would have to bring to Mirkwood. He lifted his head and looked around for the elves who had survived the battle. There were many he knew and was befriended with, but there was also a fair share of woodland elves who were helping the wounded by treating their injuries and supporting them if they were too weak to walk. It made Elrond proud – although he would never admit it in the presence of the Elven-king – that both the Elves from Mirkwood and Imladris were assisting each other, regardless of their origin or colour of hair. _Maybe need fuses together even the greatest adversaries, _he thought and remembered his own venture regarding the befriending – and more – of a Mirkwood resident.

Slowly, the elves had stabilised everyone to make their way back into the forest. Most of the horses had either been slain or run away, so that one elf was sent on the fastest horse to overbring the news of the won battle. _Won,_ Elrond thought and felt repelled by this word. _With so many dead, we can hardly call this battle _won. Just ask the children and parents, the partners and siblings of those who had left their lives in the duty of protection of our people. Apart from the messenger, the rest of the horses were used to carry the most severely wounded, but even without those who could barely walk, they had lost their motivation to advance quickly. Elrond himself felt comfortable with their steady pace. It gave him more time to think before he had to answer for the outcome of the fight before Thranduil himself.

The sun was setting when they arrived at the big, wooden gates. It was a wonder how light shone into the forest after all since the canopy layer was so thick. He felt strange when entering the foreign realm, but it might have just been the effect of the minor harms his body graced. The injured elves were taken to the healers, and Elrond noticed a light brown-haired guard who looked at him and nodded towards the king's room. He had feared that he would have to attend to this uneasy dialogue immediately. Two more guards were stationed on each side of the door, opening it for him. The heavy wings swung open, and there he could see the Elven-king full of grace and elegance, full of arrogance and haughtiness.

Elrond advanced until he stood on the stony platform in front of the stairs that let to Thranduil's throne. The elf had not moved since Elrond had entered the room. Not even a strand of his perfectly aligned blonde hair had changed its place.

"Tell me of our casualties," he demanded.

Elrond swallowed hard. Thranduil did not even ask whether they had successfully slain the orc army, he just assumed it.

"Many of us have been killed, many of us have been wounded," he answered with a dry mouth.

Now, Thranduil bothered to stand up and paced the staircase down with a confidence that made Elrond wonder whether he practiced this descend whenever no one was watching. The tall, blonde elf stopped less than twenty centimetres before him.

"You have been injured, too," he said and touched Elrond's chin with his long, spindly fingers.

"Only minorly," Elrond admitted. He hated that Thranduil looked down on him for that, but he swore that even the Elven-king himself could not have come out of this battle without the tiniest mark.

"Tis but a scratch," Thranduil muttered and turned around quickly. His hair swirled but came to a halt as perfectly sitting as ever. He reclimbed to his throne but stopped midway. "My son's battalion encountered several Nazgûl burning a settlement of Woodmen. They have cast them out of my realm."

As that was all that Thranduil had to say on this topic, Elrond left without casting a second eye on the mighty king having taken seat on his enormous throne. _He must be compensating for something,_ Elrond thought as the doors closed again behind him.

It was getting late, and the elves who had returned from the battle were swarming towards the dining hall. Elrond did not feel much hunger, he rather wanted to take a soothing bath. Not only would it be warm and clean, he could also relax and review the events of the day from a wiser perspective.

He had been accommodated in a private room unlike his fellow soldiers from Imladris who had to share a room with four or six. But he was a Lord, and even though Thranduil did look down on him, he did allow him one or another privilege. He gave his Mirkwood servant the rest of the evening off so that he would be able to join the common dinner. Elrond started the fire to heat the water himself and waited patiently to ensure that the water flowing into the white bathtub was of a pleasant temperature.

His bathroom was round, supported by columns that were decorated with wooden leaves. The bathtub stood in the middle, elegantly, and Elrond dropped his heavy armour on the floor. He regarded his body and noticed how many scratches there were, glistering redly in the shimmering light of the torches at the walls. He stepped into the water, twitching because of the heat. But once he had immersed his whole body in the transparent liquid, he moaned in relaxation. The burden of the entire day dissolved in the water with the fine streaks of blood that came off his body. The water was shimmering in a dark yellow-ochre, now intercepted by brownish-red streams.

He had just closed his eyes when he heard the door creaking open. He was alert at once, but the silhouette that stood in the entry was one that Elrond was too familiar with already.

"I missed you at dinner," the young, blonde elf said and entered the bathroom without even asking for permission. He closed the door silently behind him.

"I was not hungry," Elrond murmured, slightly annoyed by his alone-time being disturbed. He was less annoyed by the fact that Legolas was obviously staring at his unclothed body that lay in the bath tub like food on a platter.

"I _was_ hungry," Legolas responded, now standing at the side of the tub, casting a dark shadow on the water. "Hungry for _you_," he added and bend down to Elrond's face. His blond hair was touching the Lord's chest.

"Your father said that your defence of the Woodmen against the Nazgûl was victorious," Elrond said while regarding the youngling's tasty lips.

"He was exaggerating, that's for sure," Legolas said and inhaled deeply. He liked the smell of battle, of blood and sweat, especially when it was coming from Elrond. Before he came closer to finally give him a kiss, Legolas stood up and started undoing his belt.

Elrond leaned his head against the bathtub's edge and observed him attentively. He enjoyed the deliberately slow removal of Legolas' clothes and could not contain a silent moan when the blonde elf finally stood there, his bare body illuminated in the torches' light.

He did not need to invite him, but Legolas already stepped carefully into the tub. When his round derrière touched Elrond's pelvis, the water level rose dangerously close to the tub's edge. He leaned forward and his hair tips were becoming wet and dark.

"Your body marks a vicious battle," Legolas said, and his fingers glided over the many wounds that decorated Elrond's beautiful body.

"I survived," Elrond whispered and rose towards Legolas' face in anticipation. The young elf finally gave in and pressed his soft lips against the experienced ones from Elrond. Their kiss was long and deep, and he could feel the Lord's tongue making his way towards his throat. His mouth was dry, and he ached for a complete devotion to his lust. He began to feel Elrond's wet hands on his back, sliding along the skin, reaching his neck. He rested his own hands on Elrond's manly chest.

He had not expected yet to feel Elrond's wood strive his rear. He laughed and sat up. "You are needy," he remarked with a boyish smile on his face.

"It has been centuries since I last time felt such lust. I have no idea how I could live the past decades without using my body for myself. It was only when I met you that my desire came back," he explained himself while Legolas started to dance his backside around Elrond's stiff penis, brushing it gently. Such small movements were enough to make Elrond lean back and breath deeply with his mouth open.

"You are too easy to please, my Lord" Legolas noted. "You have so much experience but have neglected to use it for too long." He now sat down on Elrond's thigh. His hands now firmly gripped the erect penis and strove his hand around it in turns. Elrond was no longer able to speak. Only gasps of arousal and pleasure left his mouth. It did not take long for the white, in this light silver-looking semen to leave his phallus and disperse in the blood-water. Legolas smiled in satisfaction and lay his body onto Elrond's, immersing himself in the mixture of different liquids. He lay his head on Elrond's chest and enjoyed the moment of togetherness.

The water started to get cold, but Elrond did not mind. He loved to feel Legolas' calm and regular breath on his chest that heaved and lowered in nearly the same rhythm. The lower part of his blonde hair was wet and the upper part dry, which he felt slightly moving on his skin. He put his arms around the Legolas' upper body. He looked so peaceful. So innocent. So pure. Elrond could not remember when he had been so young. But Legolas managed to make him feel as if he were young and lustful again. He brought all these memories back, all these yearnings, desire, wishes.

"Now, let it be my turn to please you," he whispered into Legolas' ear. The blonde elf rose slowly, looking at Elrond like a dog begging for a bone. "Lean back," Elrond said, and Legolas did as he was told. Elrond sat up now as well and bend his legs to sit on his heels. The water stirred and became rough. Though they had so far managed to not spill anything over the edge. Elrond's hair which had until now hung outside the bathtub were now only centimetres above the water surface. Legolas admired the two braids which hung in front of Elrond's chest. The Lord bent over Legolas is if to intimidate him.

"Does your father know about us?" he asked.

Legolas shook his head in surprise.

"Would he approve of us?" Elrond asked in a voice that a master would use if a blunt mistake of his apprentice had come to his attention.

Legolas realised where this was going and shook his head again. He maintained eye contact and responded, "he would never allow us to be together."

"Then you are acting against your father's wishes. You are doing explicitly what you know he would never support," Elrond continued in his lecturing voice. He could feel how Legolas was aroused by the thought of doing something that his father forbad. "You are very naughty, Legolas," he bent forward and whispered into his ear.

"Naughty elves need to be punished," Legolas' voice had become croaky in anticipation. His breath had increased, all of which Elrond noticed and played in his advantage.

"And how shall I punish you?" Elrond asked and touched Legolas' sleek face. His fingers wandered over his cheek and chin, they reached his mouth and stroke his lips. They were so small, he was feeling his breath on his skin. He bent closer as if he were to kiss him, but he halted a hand's width in front of him. His pointing and middle finger now slid into Legolas mouth which he started sucking on. As soon as Legolas seemed to enjoy himself, Elrond withdrew his fingers, leaving Legolas with the feeling of desire. He looked at him with needy eyes.

Elrond smiled at his little victory. He looked down and saw that he had indeed been successful in getting a reaction from the woodland elf. He took his own penis to play with the tip of Legolas'. "Talking about easy to please," he said cheekily.

"I need to merely cast a glance on you and am put into a state of delight," Legolas said with difficulty while panting heavily.

"You are very delighted," Elrond found and started widening his behind with his fingers.

"Let me assist you," Legolas said and grabbed Elrond at his pelvis to move him closer.

He entered with his index finger to which Elrond replied, "more."

Legolas shoved his middle and ring finger in with force. Elrond gave a short shriek, followed by a pleasant moan. When Legolas' fingers slid out, the Elf-Lord wasted no time to force his butt cheeks down on Legolas' stiff penis. Legolas was not prepared for the quickness with which Elrond operated and gave a pleasant outbreath.

"Do you like that?" Elrond asked when he moved his pelvis up and down. Legolas did nothing but nod, to which Elrond briskly replied, "you were, however, supposed to be punished," and smacked the outside of his hand against the beautiful face of the blonde elf. Legolas gasped in surprise and pain, as this was what he had last expected. He gazed at Elrond in utter astonishment. His eyes first showed confusion, then pleasure, then they begged for more.

"I have been very, very bad," Legolas said. "I have been laying with an elf from Imladris, and I have entered him deep and enjoyed him. I have been playing with him and I have brought out a lust in him that had been buried for centuries." While Legolas was confessing his sins in a voice one would use towards a priest, Elrond kept hitting his left cheek until it had turned red. Satisfied with the result, and not stopping with the steady up and down movement of his lower body, he leaned forward and licked Legolas' swollen cheek. He felt his breath in his ear, it was loud and irregular. Elrond now forced himself to increase the pace, and the water started to clash higher to the edge of the bathtub. When the waves had finally reached an amplitude that was too high to be contained and the water splashed onto the floor, so did Legolas in Elrond. For a second, he stopped breathing, and then released the air all at once, as he was releasing himself.

They remained motionless for a few moments before Elrond exited him. He leaned against the other side of the tub and regarded Legolas. He was so young, so pure but yet so impure. He was needy and brought out the same in him. He had helped him remember movements and positions that Elrond had not made in centuries, and Elrond had taught Legolas secrets he would have never dreamed of. Right now, he felt how they completed each other for the strive for perfect pleasure.

Elrond would have loved to linger in that state of sexual satisfaction, but it was abruptly disturbed by the loud thud of the opening wood doors. His head spun around, and he would have nearly yelled at the sight of a dark silhouette in the corridor, unmistakably the Elven-king himself, wearing his grand crown and flowing robe.

He strode forward with a hasty pace, the doors falling shut behind him. He stepped into the light of the torch, regarding from above the two naked elves sitting opposite to each other in the dirty bath water.

"What is this?" he demanded in a firm, nearly trembling voice.

Neither Elrond nor Legolas dared to respond. Thranduil's aqua-coloured eyes fixated on those chestnut brown eyes of the half-elf.

"It was me, Ada," Legolas suddenly found his voice. "I seduced Lord Elrond."

"Do you also call him _Lord Elrond_ when you are inside him?" Thranduil asked with an indifferent voice that Elrond could not allocate on the mood ladder.

"Actually, he called me 'my Lord' today," Elrond said boldly. Thranduil's eyes returned to him. He was lost in the sea of his blue eyes that seemed to pierce through every place of his skin. He looked away and to Legolas for help, but the young elf was simply staring at his father with a face that did not allow any speculation about whether he was scared of the consequences or willing to defy any punishment.

"He might be my lord, but you are my king," Legolas replied with a soft voice that sounded not only submissive but also alluring.

"Is that so?" Thranduil's fierce stare now landed on his son again. He walked forward until he stood in front of the tub and in front of Legolas' head very closely. Legolas did not lower his head in shame but in surprise to Elrond he looked up and met the glance of his father.

_He definitely has his eyes,_ Elrond thought in that moment.

"He was in you today?" Thranduil suddenly asked and his head graciously turned to Elrond. His voice was snarling and arrogant as always.

Elrond nodded.

"Your arse is roughened and hurting?"

Elrond nodded again.

Without taking sight from him, Thranduil threw his elegant robe on the floor. He undid his belt and opened his tunic. One by one, all layers of his stylish clothes landed on the ground until he stood there as naked as were his son and Elrond.

"Then I will rough and hurt it even more," Thranduil decided.

Elrond could not believe what he was hearing. He would not have taken the king seriously if it had not been for Legolas' boyish smile.

"Get out of the tub and turn around," Thranduil demanded in all seriousness and with the same voice he would send a clan of elves into the dungeons or command a legion of his own into battle.

Elrond did as he was told. He stood up slowly from the water and climbed out of the bathtub. The brownish liquid dripped onto the floor. He turned towards the bathtub and lowered his back, positioned his arms in support onto the bathtub edge. He felt Thranduil's hand pull his thighs apart. He did not anticipate how fast Thranduil had gotten an erection and was able to shove himself into Elrond. But now he felt him deeper inside him than Legolas had ever been. Had he been sleeping with the wrong elf of the noble line? Elrond had no time to think as Thranduil worked in him mercilessly fast and hard, pushing him again and again. Thranduil's hands were clutching Elrond's waist firmly and moved him along to his own rhythm.

"Will you assist me, ion?" Thranduil asked, and it was obvious that Legolas was used to fulfilling such requests. Still immersed in the water, Legolas moved forward to position himself in front of Elrond. The elf lord was already panting. The pain in his behind was as pleasurable as was the king's tight grip on his body. Now, Legolas kneeled upright to meet Elrond's glance and see the perspiration on his face. He licked it off and then gave Elrond a tongue kiss to make him taste his own sweat.

Legolas then proceeded to part Elrond's hair into two and pulled it down. Elrond was not expecting such force and gave in farer than he would have wanted. He heard Thranduil laugh behind him. His movements were becoming faster and faster. Blood was pumping into Elrond's face and his breath became synchronised with the bumping of Thranduil's balls against the bottom cheeks.

Suddenly, Thranduil penis entered harder and further, and he stayed longer in. Elrond felt the pulsation and his release. He moaned and heard how Thranduil exhaled deeply. The movement had stopped and Thranduil enjoyed staying inside Elrond. Legolas smoothened Elrond's hair and gave him a kiss on his nose. After a while, Thranduil pulled his penis halfway out, shook it a bit, and then pulled out completely. Elrond felt an immense relieve and sacked onto his knees.

Legolas stepped out of the bathtub now as well and patted Elrond's head. The lord did not look up, he was too busy breathing deeply. Thranduil offered his hand which Legolas elegantly took. They now stood chest to chest and Legolas looked up into his father's face. Not a single muscle twitched in the icy cold face.

"I have taught my son well, haven't I, Elrond?" Thranduil now said aloud but did not look away from the blue eyes of his son.

"I certainly know where he learnt from," Elrond admitted and turned around. He sat down on the stone floor and leaned against the bathtub. His heart was still pumping heavily and his chest, wet from water and sweat, heaved and lowered regularly. He looked up to Thranduil and Legolas who seemed to be sunken into a staring contest. Then, Thranduil proceeded very slowly to touch his son's chin with his long fingers and bent down to press his lips on Legolas'. What followed was a long and passionate kiss which had been practiced and perfected for centuries. Elrond could not help but feel turned on by the view. He was still aroused by the work that Thranduil had performed in him, so his penis erected without any help. While Thranduil and Legolas were still engaged in tongue play, Elrond started to work on himself.

When Thranduil and Legolas had finished, they kneed down beside him. "Legolas, would you do him the honour?" Thranduil asked and Legolas bent down obediently. Elrond stopped the play of his hands and let the young blonde elf take over. He used only his lips, and Elrond was every time surprised by how skilled they were. At first, Legolas licked around the glans before he started to suck.

"Play with your tongue," Thranduil instructed him and Elrond could immediately feel the tongue joyfully gliding around the corona of his glans.

"Yes," he moaned and closed his eyes.

"I was the first my son has practiced on," Thranduil informed him and kissed the lord. Elrond had not foreseen the softness of the king's lips. Neither had he ever imagined to be attracted to him. He opened his eyes and stared into the same sea of blue eyes that Legolas possessed. Thranduil's skin was fair and clean and perfect. His lips were small, but they engulfed Elrond's lips completely. Elrond responded the kiss and quickly lost himself in the king's skilled mouth while Legolas kept working on his penis.

Elrond wanted to linger on and not give in to the moment, but there came the time he could not hold back any longer. He discharged and Legolas drank it all. Thranduil sat up on his knees again, and Legolas bent over to kiss him and share the semen. Thranduil lustfully licked out Legolas' mouth to get all of Elrond's juice.

"You are tasty, Lord Elrond," he commented. "I see why my son has chosen you." He caressed Legolas' hair. "But now we should go to the feast. The people are expecting my return, as well as his son, and your elves will need a strong leader like you." Elrond was surprised to hear a compliment like this from the vainest of all elves in Mirkwood. "And once we have done our duty presence, we may continue in my private room."

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**Please write me a comment or review.**


	2. The bed

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities. Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal.**

**Content warning: sex, slight abuse, fetish play, dominance, wet play.**

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For Elrond, the dinner could not be over quick enough. They had already missed the most of it, but the elves started to sing and compose songs about the day's victories. Legolas fitted in perfectly, dancing with his long, blonde hair swinging around his shoulders. Elrond watched his graceful moves with amazement.

"More wine?" a servant next to him asked politely. Elrond was pulled out of his days dreams and held his goblet up to allow the red Dorwinion to be poured in. He smelled the liquid and took a large gulp. His butt ached and the alcohol lessened the pain. He also needed its dazing effect to come to terms with the unexpected sexual adventure he had just had the pleasure of experiencing. He looked over to his left where Thranduil was standing in fresh, elegant robes of silver and black. His head was lifted, his with pompous rings adorned hand held a brazen trinket of which he took a nip from time to time. He had completely ignored Elrond since they had joined the feast.

When Elrond felt the tiredness grow on him, he decided to put his cup on one of the large wooden tables and made his way for the exit. Once in the corridor, the music immediately faded, leaving him with his thoughts. He daydreamt of that patrol ride to the edge of the forest where he had spent an afternoon lying with Legolas in the grass near a river. But he was quickly caught back in reality.

"Where do you think you are going?" he heard the powerful voice of the Elven-king behind him. He turned to see Thranduil with a cup in one and a three-quarters full bottle of Dorwinion in the other hand.

Elrond did not dare to respond, so the king strode forwards. "To my quarters, now. You are not done for today," he said in a lower voice and passed the lord to lead the way.

Elrond had never been before to the king's private chamber, and he was not disappointed. The wing-door flung open and he entered a big, round room with marvellous artwork on its walls. A huge desk was covered in parchments and inkwells. The curtains were drawn over the windows, but Elrond doubted he would have seen anything due to the progress of night. On the right and left there were a door each, leading to a bathroom and a dress room, Elrond assumed. At last, his gaze fell upon the object of interest for tonight: the wooden canopy-bed, decorated with golden twigs and leaves, making it truly an appropriate resting place for the king of the woodland realm.

Thranduil closed the doors behind him, and now was the time that Elrond felt trapped. Did he even want to be exposed to the king's lustful drive? He had feelings for Legolas, but why would Thranduil involve himself in their affair? _Maybe he is lonely,_ Elrond thought and looked into the arrogant face that eyeballed him up and down. Wordlessly, Thranduil poured himself another cup of Dorwinion, clinked glasses with an imaginary trinket, and swallowed half of it down in one rush. Elrond had no idea what this fast amount of intake would do to him, but the king seemed to be used to its effect.

"Drink," Thranduil said and handed Elrond the trinket. The half-elf took a careful sip, knowing how his non-Eldarian side had problems with the tipsiness that followed the indulgence.

"All of it," Thranduil demanded and lifted the trinket at its bottom, forcing Elrond to swallow faster. "If you are such a lousy drinker, I wonder how you will hold up with my own liquids," Thranduil said as if he were disinterested. Maybe Elrond did not live up to the high standards of his usual chamber guests.

When Elrond had emptied the cup, Thranduil already strode to his bed. He neatly placed cup and bottle on the bedside table and began to undress. Not really wanting to be commanded around again, Elrond followed his example. When he had disrobed himself, Thranduil guided him by his hand onto the bed. For while, Elrond sat there, one leg bent and below the other, his hands supporting his slightly backwards leaned upper body. He anticipated the king's next move, but he was only standing there, enjoying the view. Then, Thranduil started rubbing his member, focused on Elrond's chest, then his chin, his lips, and then the long brown hair.

When Thranduil's penis was stiff, he took up the trinket again and poured the rest of the bottle into it. With the cup in his hands, he crawled onto the bed and onto Elrond. His legs were bent next to the lord's chest and he sat down on his thighs.

"Sit up," he ordered, but his voice had become soft. "Drink, but do not swallow. I want to drink all of the wine from your mouth," he explained.

Elrond stared at the cup that was filled nearly to its edge. He carefully took it and started to sip. The king cowered down to make it easier for Elrond to give him the Dorwinion in a form of kiss. The first time, he spilled a large quantity over Thranduil's chin. Without being asked to, he licked it off the king's smooth skin. He obviously enjoyed himself. With time, Elrond became more skilled, and Thranduil even licked out Elrond's mouth for the tiniest drop of the previous drink. When the trinket was empty, Thranduil threw it onto the floor without care. He then climbed further onto Elrond and pressed him down onto the bed.

The king held his penis over Elrond's face and said, "show me how much a millennia-old elf has learnt in Imladris."

Elrond did not let this be told him twice and started rubbing and sucking. He took his time to be playful as well, much to an increase of moans that expressed the king's gratitude. When Thranduil came, he took his penis back into his own hand and released his white semen all over Elrond's face. Some of it dripped into his mouth and he tasted it. It was bitter-sweet, and the warmth felt good on his tongue.

"Let me wash this off your face," Thranduil said and stood up. He rubbed his penis once more and then started to pee aiming at Elrond's face at first, then all over his body. Elrond, who had not been expecting the wet play, coughed at first, being surprised by the urine and wanted to sit up. But Thranduil pushed him back and aimed his piss directly at Elrond's mouth, forcing him to swallow. His piss was even warmer than the semen and tasted even better. The liquid shimmered ochre in the torchlight and was probably heavily influenced by the amount of Dorwinion the king had drowned himself in tonight. When the flow stopped, Elrond absorbed the last drop off Thranduil's penis. The king then kneed down again and licked his own piss of Elrond's body, giving him a wet kiss from time to time, involving a lot of tongue play. Elrond could not help but be aroused. He had never indulged in such fetishes, but it had turned him on in ways that he could never had presaged.

Thranduil started to fondle his belly with his long, slender fingers, and let them wander down. He took Elrond's balls into his right hand and started to massage them. Lying next to Elrond now, the blonde elf kissed the lord's shoulders, neck, and stopped at his mouth, inserting his tongue deeply. Only then did he let his mouth follow and skilfully engaged in a romantic making out session. Elrond did not need to work on his penis, Thranduil's advances made him boost his arousal sufficiently.

His moans became louder and loader as he could not contain himself any longer. The king now started to move his hand from his balls to the penis and started to rub gently. Elrond knew that there was not much needed for him to discharge. Before he was to come, Thranduil fetched the empty trinket from the floor and held it near Erond's penis. The brown-haired elf sat halfway up while Thranduil performed the final movements on him. He released into the trinket. A small droplet remained hanging on the tip which Thranduil licked off with relish.

"Now piss into the trinket so that we can drink it," Thranduil whispered with a slightly rough voice into his ear. He had lain down next to Elrond, still holding his hand on the height of his penis.

"I cannot piss on command," Elrond responded.

"You will have to learn if you want to continue your affair with my son," the king said.

Elrond looked at him. The king had again the arrogant and demanding look on his face – or had he never lost it? It was apparent that Thranduil was used that it was done whatever he asked. Elrond concentrated on his penis again. He indeed had to pee as he had drunken too much Dorwininion tonight. He rubbed his member, and he took embarrassingly long in his own view to feel relaxed enough for the liquid to flow. Finally, a golden-shining ray shot out of his penis and filled the trinket like a whirling pool. He sat further up to assure he would spill nothing. His semen mixed with the urine but was quickly not distinguishable anymore.

"Hmmm," Thranduil commented as he smelled the liquid. "Your piss has a pleasant scent. You have not only indulged in Dorwinion today, but also in red leaf tea. Did Legolas prepare you one for the morning?"

Elrond nodded. Thranduil guided the trinket to his lips and started sipping from it. "The taste keeps all the promises the odour makes," he said and poured the rest over his chin and upper body. He lay down and looked at Elrond with expectation. "Lick your pee off my body," the blonde elf said with a smile.

Elrond admitted to himself being slightly curious how it would feel, and he tasted his urine. Thranduil's soft body had a slight scent of lemon that he had not smelled during the orgy in the bathroom. He must have applied it later. Thranduil moaned in pleasure while Elrond licked and kissed his body. When he was done, he lay down beside the king and cuddled into his arms. They lay there motionlessly for a while, only listening to each other's breathing.

Elrond had lost his sense for time. Maybe it was the light-headedness induced by the potent wine, maybe it was the joy of the moment. He must have dozen off, because he nearly shrieked when a person was tiptoeing towards the bed. The torches illuminated from behind, but not his face. When he bent down towards the two cuddling elves though, Elrond saw the gleaming blue eyes of his love.

"Someone has left me all alone and gone to have fun without me," he babbled, obviously having enjoyed a bit too much of his people's brew. He undid his shirt and unzipped his trouser, letting fall every piece of his clothes to the floor. He was staggering a bit, having to hold onto the wooden column at the edge of the bed from time to time.

"I see my father has gotten you fascinated into wet foreplay," Legolas said as he dropped his underpants onto the floor. "This is quite handy as I have taken in an… incredible amount of Dorwinion." He waved his penis and started to pee onto the two elves lying in bed. Thranduil opened his mouth expectantly, and Elrond also received his fair share of the yellow liquid. Legolas' urine tasted similar to Thranduil's but sweeter. Having relieved himself, the young elf crawled onto the bed and asked, "my arse is itchy from all the sitting at the banquet. Would someone enter me, please?" He looked at Elrond whose skin was illuminated orange-white in the light of the torches.

"Are you wide enough yet, ion?" Thranduil asked and waved him over. Legolas crawled further and sat down on Elrond's pelvis. He then leaned forwards, allowing Thranduil to test his width. The elven-king licked his fingers, then entered one, quickly two and three fingers, leading Legolas to give a half-drunk yell.

"Too quick," he moaned.

"You were the one aching for Elrond's member already," Thranduil reminded him and sat up to spit into his son's arse. While he was making Legolas ready, the prince started to make out with Elrond.

The lord felt the warm touch of Legolas' lips and responded the slight pressure. He was more sensible and less dominating than Thranduil, and Elrond enjoyed guiding the young elf a bit. He suddenly felt a touch at his penis, but both of Legolas' hands were clenching his shoulders. It was Thranduil who was preparing Elrond as well for his work in Legolas by rubbing the glans and wetting his member with spit and piss. When he deemed the two lovers to be ready, he pushed Legolas' chest back so that he would sit up straight. Then he helped Elrond's penis to find the small hole.

Legolas moaned in pleasure as soon as Elrond started to enter him. "Do nothing," he said, "I wish to work in you with my rhythm. Tell me if I may go faster."

"Use my penis as you like. You determine the pace," Elrond offered and closed his eyes. He felt Legolas moving up and down on him, first slowly, then becoming faster and faster. Legolas searched support on Elrond's belly, and he felt the warm hands glide on his skin. He became aroused not only by the thrusts but also by Legolas' heavy breathing. He imagined it being near his ear and feeling the warmth of the air move his hair. Legolas gave a few screams when he went too fast, but he did not let the pain slow him down. He continued, and by now his arse was probably sore and aching. He still needed more.

Elrond felt himself close to coming already, but Legolas showed no sign of stopping.

"You're too quick," Thranduil reprimanded Elrond and pinched one of his nipples. He startled, but then caught himself again. He laughed, but Thranduil, this time, bent down and bit his nipple. As Elrond shrieked in unexpected pain, Legolas released and spread the cum all over Elrond's belly and chest. Thranduil licked it all off thirstily and gave Elrond a kiss full of Legolas' tasty semen. Legolas began to move slower as his penis relaxed. He moved his bottom up and sat down next to Elrond who was still aroused.

Thranduil crawled towards his phallus as well, and hand in hand, father and son worked on it. They were cautious, they never stayed too much in rhythm, they switched between rubbing and sucking, and they made Elrond last longer than he had ever before. He moaned relentlessly and enjoyed the heat flowing through his whole body. At the beginning, he wanted to delay it, too, but the longer it went on, he just wanted them to finish.

Finally, when he came, a huge amount of white, sticky stuff sprayed at the faces of Legolas and Thranduil in several boosts. Legolas licked Elrond's penis, and then he and his father licked each other's faces and kissed. When they were done making out, the two blonde elves came to a rest lying down next to the lord. He felt the warm bodies of king and prince huddle against him. Elrond was sweating but did not care. He felt so relaxed as he had not in a long time. This was indeed a perfect end to a day of battle and slaughter. Right now, he was surrounded by the most handsome elves in Mirkwood, having been pleased as if it were torture, and all he could do now was close his eyes and sleep.


	3. The sofa

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities. Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal.**

**Content warning: sex, slight dominance, wet play.**

* * *

As soon as Elrond opened his eyes, he did not only feel the after-effect of the excessive abuse of Dorwinion from the night before, but also guilt and shame regarding his sexual adventure of the long evening. It had been daring and risky to entertain a sexual relationship with the Woodland prince already, but now that his father had discovered the affair, the whole undertaking had gained in perilousness. What exactly did Thranduil expect from him? How did he want him to behave? They had not spent much time talking yesterday, especially not about what the nature of their actions were.

Elrond did not dare to move when he noticed Legolas uncurl. The young, blonde elf sat up and looked at the two other seemingly sleeping elves. He started caressing Elrond's thighs, ignored his genitals, and moved upwards over his belly and chest. The Lord of Imladris could no longer fake his sleep as he enjoyed his touch too much. He opened his eyes and looked into the beautiful gemstones that were Legolas' eyes. His smile was the cutest of any being in Middle Earth that he had ever met.

"Good morning," Legolas whispered and bent down to press his lips gently against Elrond's. They longed for each other as if they had not spent the last night together. Their kisses were more passionate because they were not being watched by Legolas' father right now. So Elrond dared to go further and let his tongue play with that of Legolas'. After a while that had felt like an eldarin eternity, their lips parted again, and they looked longingly into each other's eyes.

Elrond wanted to ask Legolas so many questions, about how they should continue, about his relationship with his father, about what his father expected from him, how serious this affair was to him, but when he opened his mouth, so did Thranduil's eyes.

"Well, good morning, loving couple," he said with a tone of mockery in his voice.

"Good morning, ada," Legolas said and greeted him with a kiss less intense than that one which he had shared only moments ago with Elrond.

The Peredhel did not understand why this Oedipal love aroused him so much. He felt his lower part itching whenever he saw their faces less than an inch from each other.

Now, Thranduil turned to him while Legolas placed his head on his shoulder. "If you want to continue a relationship with my son, you will have to let me into your heart as well. Every bond that my son makes, we share."

Elrond swallowed hard. A relationship with the most arrogant, most vain Elvenking of Arda would have been unimaginable a few decades ago. But so would have been an alliance between their people, and now they were fighting side by side against the enemies of the Eruhíni.

Thranduil got up and disappeared into his private bathroom. Legolas now crawled onto Elrond again.

"His morning routine lasts over an hour. We have enough time for some private fun," he muttered and pressed Elrond's head down onto the soft pillow.

"My people will need to see me the day after a battle. They will have to train again and –"

"Your people know how to train. They are very skilful, and so are you. I have seen you train with the sword and move around the trees as if you were one with nature. Very sexy, you know," Legolas whispered and placed his hands on Elrond's chest. He listened to the rhythmic heartbeat of the Peredhel lord and started playing with strands of his long brown hair. He undid the tail of the hair strands above his ear that Elrond had bonded together and then started to braid these strands. Elrond watched him like a teacher watching a student. In some way, he was like a master to Legolas as he had to teach him about the many ways of physical pleasure that the young elf had not known before.

When Legolas was done, he started kissing Elrond's chest and sat down onto his belly. He massaged the manly, hairless chest and then worked further down. He moved his pelvis backwards until he was above his member. With circular movements, he danced around and over Elrond's penis with soft touches. Then he took both his hands and started to massage the penis himself until it was erected.

Elrond moaned loudly, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. Within seconds, Legolas had jumped up and dragged Elrond towards the wardrobe. Thranduil came out of the bath, dressed in a silk bathrobe that was only slightly darker than his hair. He energetically opened the door and demanded, "what is it?" in a voice that made the servant nearly shriek in terror. The king was known for his briskness and so he was feared even among his own people if he happened to be in a bad mood or be brought into a bad mood by news.

"The north-west patrol has encountered another spider web less than half a day away from here. They have returned a messenger who requests aid," the servant stammered. He was trembling which made his long, red-brown hair swirl turbulently on his shoulders.

"Tell the messenger to talk to Cwingand. Have him prepare an appropriate army. My son will lead them," Thranduil hesitated for a moment, then added, "and tell Cwingand to cooperate with the Imladris elves. We don't want to give them the feeling of being left out." The sarcasm in the king's voice was unmistakable. The shy servant bowed and left which gave Legolas and Elrond the opportunity to leave the wardrobe room.

"I shall get prepared," Legolas said while hastily clothing himself.

Thranduil only nodded, watching his son.

"Another spider nest? The Nazgûl attacking so far north… There must be something larger at work," Elrond said as he turned to his clothes. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We can do our research into this later," Thranduil said which sounded like a command. But basically everything he said sounded like a command one way or the other. "For now, we let Legolas part and enjoy the time we have together. Then we might join the tactical planners in the map room and see if we can make sense into the growing danger of evil."

"How can you stay in your room and get off while evil invades your realm?" Elrond asked. He was not angry, and his voice was never raised.

"My father could always enjoy pleasure when everyone's mind was somewhere else. At the night of every big battle, he asked me to comfort him. But don't mistake it for disinterest – when the battle needs him, he is there with body and mind," Legolas said and left.

Elrond nodded absently, thinking about what his lover had said. He decided to trust him as Legolas probably knew his father better than anyone else.

Thranduil shut the door and seemed absent for a second, but only for a second. He then turned to Elrond and his blue eyes pierced right through his skin. The king was probably thinking about what he should do with him. But then, the elven-king smiled.

"Let's have a seat," he said and waved over to the comfortable sofa in the corner next to the bookshelf. Elrond doubted that he had read as many books than him, because this was the only bookshelf he had so far encountered in Thranduil's realm.

Elrond obeyed and took a seat next to the Sindarin elf. Thranduil lay half down, supporting himself on one arm. He pulled Elrond closer. Elrond was wearing only his underwear while the king was clothed in his elegant silk bathrobe. Elrond hesitantly rested his head on Thranduils chest and looked up. He remembered getting lost in the sea of blue of Legolas' eyes during their first time, but with Thranduil the fierce eyebrows reminded him of who it was who was in front of him.

Thranduil glided his hand through Elrond's straight hair. His hand aligned his brown mane towards his back and then petted his neck and shoulder. Elrond lifted his head and gave Thranduil a short kiss. But then Thranduil bent forwards and responded with a much longer kiss. He put his other hand on Elrond chest to pull him closer while massaging his lips with his own. He started fondling Elrond's hair again but suddenly pushed him down to his chest. Elrond understood and started licking his nipples.

Thranduil folded his hands behind his head and let Elrond undo the belt of his robe. Pale, naked flesh displayed before Elrond and he took the opportunity to show Thranduil how well he had been caring for his son. While working on one nipple, he caressed the other with his hand. He felt Thranduil toying with his hair again, with an occasional moan indicating that the king was pleased with his display of affection.

Then Elrond began to pull Thranduil's underwear off. He smelled it intensively, a mix of lavender and Thranduil's body scent. He kissed Thranduil while positioning himself between the king's legs that he spread – one over the backrest of the sofa and the other towards the floor. The full elf offered himself and the Peredhel was allowed to please him and do to his penis whatever he liked. But first, he started the long and intensive kisses again. His mouth was dry, but the blonde elf licked it wet.

Thranduil now freed the Lord's penis from his underwear as well and massaged it while flapping it occasionally against his own member. Elrond sat up and took both penises into his hand to give them equal treatment. Then he pushed Thranduil further back so that his muscular legs stood bent but towards the air. Elrond continued the kissing while his penis was touching Thranduil's arse again and again but without penetrating him. Everytime that the elven-king felt the Peredhel's penis on his bottom cheeks or testicles, his breath stopped for the fraction of a second and then caught himself again. He liked how the half-elf was teasing him, how he had not yet finished him off or entered him.

Then, Elrond crawled down and started licking Thranduil's penis from the shaft to the glans while carefully fondling his nuts with his hands. Now, Thranduil's moans became louder in anticipation. Finally, the Lord first licked all around the head to get it wet and then took his whole mouth to engulf the glans. Then, he kissed the underside of the penis until he had arrived at the balls. He could hear Thranduil breathe heavier. He spent a lot of time with the testicles while striving the penis with his cheeks. He felt Thranduil's hands in his hair and was pulled towards the penis.

"Now take it all in," Thranduil said and pushed his penis into Elrond's mouth. At first, the half-elf wanted to gag because he was not used to the length. But then, he got used to it and closed his lips around the penis. He careful went back and forth, trying to lick the head as well as he could with Thranduil's tight grip around his head who was guiding him. Then, Thranduil let Elrond take over and only loosely placed his head on Elrond's head. The Peredhel started to suckle at the glans until Thranduil's moans had become so relaxing that he could anticipate the release. Thranduil came completely into Elrond's mouth and the elf on his knees licked off the last bit from the head.

Elrond stood up and pushed Thranduil down onto the sofa so that he was lower than him. It made it easier to give him part of the semen during the long kiss they shared afterwards. Elrond's mouth was still a bit dry which made it hard to swallow. As if Thranduil could read his mind, he pushed his head down to his flaccid penis.

"Drink it all," the king instructed and peed straight into Elrond's mouth in small bursts so that the Lord was able to swallow it all. The piss filled his mouth with warmth, and he liked the smell that reminded him of the Dorwinion excess of the previous night. Thranduil patted his head like an animal and said, "now you should get ready for the day." He stood up and went to dress himself. Elrond sat down on the floor and leaned against the sofa. He closed his eyes and thought about the night. When had he become the love slave of King Thranduil? Was it something bad? What would his wife think if she were still in Arda? He thought a lot about her, and maybe that was why he had started a romance with Legolas in the first place – to forget her and to pass his regrets aside. He watched Thranduil come out of his clothing room in full gown, with several gems on his fingers and a twig crown on his head. He looked fabulous and he knew it. He played everyone like a game of chess and Elrond didn't mind being the knight.


	4. The meeting room

**Warning:**

**Explicit sex scenes. Not for readers under 18. A sex-less version can be found under the name "The Second Prophecy of Mandos".**

* * *

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities. Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.  
**

**Sex must always be consensual!**

**Content warning: sex, dominance, abuse, violence.  
**

* * *

"How many dead?" Thranduil hissed in disbelief. His face reflected hatred, though it was not clear whether he hated spiders, or he hated losing. Probably both.

Legolas did not bow like Cwingand, the commander of the army sent to the spidernest, did. He repeated the number and watched another outburst of anger in Thranduil's face. He found for a short time that hatred made his father ugly, but he pushed that thought away immediately.

Thranduil turned away from his two soldiers. He breathed deeply, either to calm himself or to prepare another round of shouting and insults. Finally, his voice had come down to a normal volume, but this did not mean that his words were filled with less emotions.

"Cwingand, you may leave. See to that the wounded are being treated and that a nurse takes a look at your shoulder. Legolas, you stay."

His son did not move but exchanged a quick look with the oak brown haired elf. Cwingand was glad that he could leave and got treated, both because his shoulder was hurting and bleeding, but also because he was sure that Legolas was in for another round of being yelled at by Thranduil.

The king waited until Cwingand had shut the door of the briefing room behind him and then ordered his guards to leave as well and not return until after their midday break. The door fell shut another time and Legolas shrieked by the sound. It meant that he had no choice but completely surrender to his father's enraged mood.

He looked at him expectantly. Thranduil looked back at his son who could see the veins in his face pump the blood through the body.

"Arda, the spiders were too many," Legolas tried to soothe him. But his intent was futile.

"Turn around," Thranduil said. Legolas sighed. When he was a child and misbehaved, he was often punished by his father. At times, his behind had been so red that he could not sit for hours. It would hurt in the night and he could not sleep.

Legolas obediently turned around to face the long, wooden table. He opened his trousers and let it drop. He removed his underwear and bent forward. In the meantime, his father had picked up one of the twigs that would be used for fire making in the nights. Legolas took off the cloth bandage that he had provisionally draped around his left underarm where a spider claw had cut him. The tissue stank of his own blood, but he still put it into his mouth to avoid grinding his teeth.

Thranduil did not give him advance notice so the first stroke came unexpected. Legolas made a muffled sound through the cloth and tasted the blood with which it was soaked. He nearly had to gag when he swallowed the blood. He wanted to prepare himself, but the hits were without rhythm. Thranduil hit him with different times to relax in between, with different strength. He would not stop until Legolas' cheeks were red with bloody striae. He threw the red twig next to Legolas onto the table, but his son knew that the punishment was not over yet.

The blonde prince felt the cold hands of the king gliding over his bottom, not to caress the wound but to get enough blood to use as lube. Then he felt immediately two fingers inside him and held his breath in pain. He wanted to scream, but no voice left his mouth. He bent down further, but it did not help to lessen the pain. Thranduil rubbed his fingers inside him and took a third one to join in too early. Legolas panted heavily and the cloth dropped out of his mouth.

"I hope this will be a lesson for you," Thranduil hissed in his malevolent voice. "To be a better archer, to be a better soldier." With that he entered his stiff penis and pushed himself fully in. Legolas gave only a short shrieking sound before he returned to a silent scream. His head was red by now as well, and the pain made his limbs twitch. He wanted to beg, but he would not give his father the satisfaction of admitting his weakness.

Thranduil worked in Legolas, at first slowly, but he increased the pace without mercy. Only when he had come, he stopped, not giving in to his son's pain. Pleased, he took out his penis and dressed again.

"I do not want to see you a minute late for lunch," he said and left the room without looking back.

Legolas fell to his knees the moment that he was alone. Tears dripped out of his eyes and he hid his face in his hands. He rested in this position for a few moments, his behind aching, the pain coming and leaving in waves. He felt the blood pumping in his face. Then he stood up, supported his hands on the wooden table and caught his breath. He wiped the tears out of his eyes. Father got angry when someone saw him cry. And he did not want to be punished again today.

He got dressed and walked out of the room without a hint on his face of what had happened. He joined the soldier's lunch silently. Actually, there was no one who spoke. The few soldiers that had returned and were healthy enough to take the meal at the common table were thinking about what had happened and how the spiders would have nearly had them. Elrond came late, too, and he took a seat, too, without talking at all. However, for Elrond, it was nothing unusual as he was wise enough only to speak when he had something to say.

As soon as it was possible to excuse himself politely, Legolas left the scene and returned to his private quarters. He wanted to sit down but his rear would not let him. Hence, he sunk down in front of his desk and looked at the floor. He was so lost in his thoughts and pain that he did not hear the door open and close behind him. Only when he felt a warm breath near his ear did he notice the elf kneeing beside him.

"What happened?" Elrond asked calmly. His voice was like a breeze trying to soften the ocean's maelstrom that was playing inside Legolas' heart and body.

He felt wet tears running over his cheek again. Angrily, Legolas wiped them off, only to find his hand caught by Elrond's.

"There is no shame in crying," the dark-haired elf solaced him and licked the tears off Legolas' hand. He then put his hand around his shoulder, pulling the blonde youngling slightly towards him.

Legolas leaned his head against Elrond's chest and whimpered. "I Adar nîn," he stammered after a while, his voice shaking like the thoughts inside his mind. He felt Elrond's hand wander from his shoulder into his hair and caressing his head. He had never felt such soft touches by his father.

"He hurt you?" Elrond whispered into his pointy ear. Legolas could not speak but nodded. He sensed Elrond furrow his brow and then sigh in disappointment in Thranduil's fatherly skills. "Get up and undress," Elrond then decided. "I want to take a look." He helped Legolas up and towards the bed. Legolas was weak and needed Elrond's strength to help him remove his many layer of clothes. When he was finally bare, he lay down on his chest, and Elrond pushed a fluffy pillow under his head. The blonde elf looked sideward while Elrond searched for oil in the drawer of the night table. He dribbled the liquid onto Legolas' reddened cheeks and gently applied it with his hands. He worked around the asshole at first but then went slowly closer until his smallest oily finger entered him. Legolas tensed at the feeling of the finger entering him, but as the anticipated pain was damper than expected, he relaxed again.

Elrond turned his finger, then took his index finger and repeated the massage inside him. When it seemed too sore, he added more oil until Legolas' muscles eased. Then his hands slid down Legolas' hairless legs and he gently petted his thighs with his big, manly hands. The young elf moaned repeatedly in pleasure. His mind was not with his father anymore, he now concentrated solely on Elrond's touch.

He must have dozen off because when he awoke again Elrond was sitting next to his face and drying his wet hand with a towel. He carefully pushed a strand out of Legolas' face.

"How do you feel?" the half-elf asked.

"Better," Legolas said, even though he became a bit sad when he thought about his punishment.

"You are still thinking about your father," Elrond seemed to read his mind. "Let me help you forget this unpleasant event." He leaned forwards to the oil bottle. He had only just washed his hands, but he did not mind continuing to coddle his young partner.

"In the drawer of the night table," Legolas directed him, and when Elrond opened said drawer, he found a collection of wooden toys. At least in the first moment they looked like simple toys. Most of them were long, thick, carved wooden sticks. There was one with a tip like an arrow but softened. It was this one that he picked up, together with the round marbles on a string.

He dripped some of the oil directly onto Legolas' already shimmering skin. "Work slowly," the blonde elf begged.

"I will not hurt you, my dear," Elrond said and added, "I am not your father."

He massaged Legolas' asshole again. First with one finger, then with two, and he rubbed them gently against the inside walls of his rectum. He exited his fingers and started to rub the marble balls against Legolas' cheeks to get them wet and to make the elf know what he was up to.

"Oh yes," Legolas moaned and closed his eyes. He wanted to focus his concentration on the feeling of his bottom. Very carefully, Elrond started to push one bead after another into his anus. Legolas felt like making noises, but he kept still. When the last beads was in, Elrond massaged his cheeks again.

"It feels so good," Legolas said, and his father's punishment was completely forgotten in that moment. He had opened his eyes again, but instead of looking backwards to Elrond, he focused on the drapes of the window. They were flattering in a soft afternoon breeze and the golden light was now enlightening his private room. The warm sun rays met his face and he felt truly blessed by this moment of physical affection. Elrond now bent forward and gave his stressed anus a quick kiss. Legolas closed his eyes again and expected a pull-out just like his father had been doing ever since he had given him those beads for a birthday decades ago.

But instead, the beads slipped out slowly and smoothly, wetted enough with the lubricating oil and without pain for Legolas but with a very relaxing feeling. He breathed deeply in and out, taking this rare moment of absolute pleasure for anything but granted. When the last marble bead had been pulled out, he felt Elrond's fingers again, after-massaging to make sure Legolas was surely wide enough.

But instead of entering him himself, Elrond picked up the long wooden toy with the pointy tip that had the shape of an arrow. It had been the first present by his father, and he had been quite keen of using it many times. But again, unlike the king, Lord Elrond proved himself gentler and compassionate and took a long time to explore the anal orifice before completely inserting not only the tip but the whole toy. Legolas winced at the length, and Elrond pulled it a few millimetres back and stroked his cheek.

"It's okay," Legolas said, "I was just surprised by the length," he added and felt the wood finding its way deeper into his rectum again. Elrond performed circular movements and pulled it out until he saw the tip and worked with pushing and pulling just half a palm wide of the toy. It pleased Legolas and he was in an ecstasy of joy that he already thought perfect. But then Elrond carefully rolled him over to his side, and while using his left to continue the anal satisfaction, his right, oily hand caressed Legolas' balls at first, squishing them gently, letting all his fingers circle the testicles again and again with such finesse that Legolas was sure he had more than just five fingers on his hand.

After a while, Elrond worked his way up along the root and the shaft to the neck, and when he touched the glans, Legolas could not hold back his moans. The Lord's touch felt so well and in harmony with the work he performed in his anus. He thought already that he could stand the pleasurable torture no longer as his body started to tremble, but suddenly he felt Elrond's warm breath on his skin. He had bent down and was now kissing Legolas' rips, waist and the side of his butt cheeks and thighs. Legolas' mourns became louder and louder. He pressed his eyes together as he could no longer hold back.

"Elrond," he breathed desperately.

"Yes, Legolas, yes," Elrond murmured in his deep, smoky voice.

It was too much for Legolas. He released at once into Elrond's hand, his body relaxing, though still slightly twitching. He leaned onto his back as Elrond had gotten onto his knees. He bent one leg around Legolas and lay down beneath him again, this time placing his head on the young elf's chest. Elrond wiped his hand in the bed cloth, which got was stained with Legolas' ejaculate and oil, but they did not care. He felt the half-elves warm breath on his chest. It felt comfortable and he wished they would never part again.

* * *

**FYI: Legolas does willingly participate in sex with Thranduil. He grew up with sex being either a reward or a punishment. Legolas never had sex with his father before he came out of age. If Legolas was not okay with Thranduil taking him, he would have resisted or said so.**

**In my fanfiction, the elves have already lived for centuries and known each other for centuries. They do not need to speak as much as they did when they had sex for the first few times. For humans, talking about intent and activity during sex is very, very important!**


	5. Nature

**Some lighter stuff...**

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities. Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.**

**Content warning: sex (obviously).  
**

* * *

In the early evening, Thranduil commanded small troops to patrol the Mirkwood realm. He then called Elrond to him. The Lord arrived at the throne and dropped a small curtsy which seemed to please the Elven-king.

"There is something in this forest that makes its non-Illúvatar children inhabitants aggressive and belligerent. I have sent out our men to guard the peaceful beings, but I want to be sure that we find the source of this change. I would like you to go to Dol Guldur and make sure these abandoned ruins are as abandoned as we think them to be."

Elrond nodded. He had thought about this haunted place before. It had been a while since he, Galadriel, Saruman, and Gandalf fought off Sauron. If a malevolent spirit had returned to Dol Guldur, they should seek it out and prepare a response. Elrond turned to leave as he had heard enough, but Thranduil stopped him. "Take my son with you. I trust you to protect him."

Elrond nodded and, on his way, out, his skin became hot and cold at once. Did that mean that Thranduil approved of their affair? Did he not consider him too old, or not worthy because of his Maya-Human heritage? Did he not want a warrior for his son, a noble Sindar, instead of a scholar half-elven who would soon follow the call to set sail for Aman?

He was awoken of his thoughts when he nearly ran into his lover at the bottom of some stairs.

"Where so hastily?" Legolas asked, a smirk on his lips as he loved the inattentiveness of Elrond being lost in thoughts.

Elrond looked up and melted immediately in the ocean of Legolas' wonderful eyes. "King Thranduil sent us to support the patrolling guards and inspect Dol Guldur."

"Us?"

"Indeed. He specifically asked me to take you with him, Legolas."

"That is a good sign then, I believe. I will pack our horses at once," he said, and Elrond followed him to the weapons chamber.

Less than two burnt standard candle lengths later they were riding their horses towards the south. The last time, Elrond had been accompanied by his then-future mother-in-law and a powerful wizard. Now, he was with a young elf who he was also told to protect at all cost, and this task made him feel uneasy. He knew that he had the role of the protector in their relationship, not only due to his age and experience but also because of his knowledge of Arda and its occupants. His heart ached at the thought of the world east of the Great Sea as his mind involuntarily wandered to the Undying Lands and Celebrían. It had taken him centuries to overcome his grief and turn it into good. He had tried to do his best as Lord of Imladris and father to four children. Now, looking at Legolas, he felt his heartbeat increase and his ears turn red. This young Sindarin prince was filling his life with love that he could give, and he lessened the pain when the two lay together at night, his body warmth spending solace and comfort.

They could not travel fast due to the lack of light. It was a full moon but still, only little light faded through the tree canopies. Thranduil had insisted on their immediate departure and, while Nazgûl preferred to walk under moonlight as well, they had dismounted the horses and led them by the reins to minimise the noise they were making. When there was no light left shining through the thickening leaf roofs to illuminate their path, they agreed to halt and camp for the night.

The two lovers did not dare to make a fire as they feared to be seen. They tied the horse reins to a tree and gave the animals food. Then they sat down themselves on a blanket and silently ate bread. When they were done, they cuddled closer together. It was beginning to get cold as they were not moving anymore, and Legolas was freezing hopelessly.

"Come closer to me," Elrond invited the shaking elf and took him into his arms, lying down. He covered them both in a blanket and they woke up still huddled together the next morning when the first sun rays pierced through the thick layer of leaves and branches.

"Good morning," Elrond said and smiled.

"Morning," Legolas said. He reached up to gave Elrond a good morning kiss. His lips were so soft. He nearly forgot when he looked at the Peredhil's face.

Elrond freed them both of the blanket, but they had slept so close to each other that, when they looked down, they knew that the other elf had also dreamt of this night together. They smiled and looked at each other. They kissed while standing up and Legolas clasped his hands around Elrond. Elrond then proceeded to untie the cords of Legolas' shirt. The blonde elf understood the gesture and in less than a few eye's blinks they stood there nakedly, surrounded by bushes and trees in the nature, making out passionately as if there were no dangers in the land.

"Turn around," Elrond said, and Legolas obeyed immediately. The brown-haired elf licked his fingers and started to widen Legolas' arsehole. The young elf moaned and bent forward, grabbing the thick branches of a small tree for support. He felt Elrond widening him, preparing him for his big cock that was about to enter him. Legolas was glad that his father's penis was enormous and that he had been trained by him before he had slept with any other elf. And luckily, he had inherited most of his father's physical equipment, even though he hoped that it would still grow to the exact same measurements.

"I am ready," Legolas said. It took Elrond a while to wet his penis with his spit, but then he pressed himself slowly into Legolas. His belly touched Legolas' back when he had inserted himself fully. He sorted the blonde hair that had gone wild over night and pushed it over Legolas' left shoulder. He proceeded to kiss his neck and right shoulder. Gently, he moved himself in Legolas, then pulled out and wetted his member again. Legolas loved the romantic way of Elrond making love to him and wished his father would have shown it to him much earlier in his life. Elrond understood to be considerate of Legolas' body and was always so tender with him as if he feared to break him.

Elrond increased his pace, one hand on Legolas' chest to guide his movements towards and away from him, his other hand on his shaft, slowly rubbing so that Legolas remained aroused. Their bodies clashed together again and again in a wild rhythm, as wild as the nature around them. When Legolas had become good in keeping up the pace, Elrond's manly hands started to glide all over his body, along his waist, over his belly and chest, his thighs. Legolas felt Elrond's breath in his neck and listened to him panting for breath. This sound was music in his ears as he could listen to anything Elrond would do with his mouth, it always aroused him. He loved it when Elrond sometimes told him a bedtime story about his time during the ring war or his own first experiences with other elves.

Before either of them came, Elrond pulled out and said, "turn around."

Legolas turned to face the reddened head of Elrond. Lord Elrond crouched down and took Legolas' penis into his mouth to get it wet. Then he grabbed both of Legolas' thighs and the young elf knew what he was up to. He grabbed two branches above his head to help Elrond lift him up. He crossed his legs behind Elrond's back and leaned his head back, smiling in anticipation. Elrond entered and Legolas lifted his behind to make entry easier when Elrond glided his penis into Legolas' widened hole.

The Lord changed his clasp and grabbed Legolas under the knee while his second hand fortified his grip on his back. He then proceeded to fuck him like before. Legolas closed his eyes and concentrated on the powerful thrusts that Elrond gave him. Each push was accompanied by a moan on his side. The sun shone onto his face and warmed his skin, and he thought in this moment that there was nothing more perfect as a morning with his lover's touch under the golden light of Anor.

Elrond's movements became faster and Legolas' moans longer. The dark-haired elf grabbed Legolas' behind so that he could easier move in and out of him. Legolas lifted his head and looked into Elrond's beautifully kind eyes. No wonder he could not resist the face of this millennia old elf. He was beautiful and beautifully wise. It was not just his physical appearance that fascinated Legolas, but the aura of wisdom and gentleness that emanated from him.

Now, Elrond bent forward to kiss Legolas. It was passionate but a bit rough as they both trembled due to the powerful thrusts with which Elrond broke into Legolas' arse. Elrond was the first to come and Legolas enjoyed the feeling in his behind and the nearly silent cry of relief of Elrond so close to his face.

Legolas was close to coming himself. Elrond now put Legolas carefully down and bent towards his penis to finish off what he had started. Legolas had not anticipated the warmth of Elrond's lips and tongue as the morning in the forest was rather cool today. It did not take long for the blonde elf to release completely into his lover's mouth. Legolas let go of the branch he had still been grabbing and slung his arms around Elrond's head as he pulled him upwards and towards him. Elrond pushed Legolas against the tree, his heavy chest touching Legolas'. They could feel each other's chest moving with their elevated breaths as they passionately shared kiss after kiss as if their lips never wanted to part again.

"We should get moving," Elrond then suggested, and they started to get dressed. They still had half a day's ride ahead and they wanted to arrive at Dol Guldur before the night fell again.


	6. The butler

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.**

**In my story, Galion has been serving Thranduil for centuries. They know each other well and trust each other. Therefore, they do not talk as much. Galion knows what to expect during sex with Thranduil. He participates willingly. If he wanted to stop it, he would say so and Thranduil would stop.**

**Content warning: sex, BDSM, fetish play, abusive situation, dominance, wet play. Maybe more.  
**

_I would also like to use this moment and thank several of my readers/ friends for their input, especially their advice regarding safe sex, consent, sexual activities, trigger warnings, labelling of the story, and degree of disturbedness after reading: Thank you, Je., Al., Al., Ca., M., Lukas, Ca., Ma., Pa. "Legolas", Da.; Thank you also to those who I have forgotten to include but who had waited until 4 am for me to read my story to you while eating a banana!_

* * *

"It has been five days since Legolas and Lord Elrond departed," Thranduil snorted and agitatedly walked from his throne to the nearest table, decorated with always at least two bottles of Dorwinion, and back.

"It takes two days alone to ride to Dol Guldur," Galion, a servant to the King, tried to calm his master down.

Thranduil gave him a sharp eye and returned from the throne to pace back to the table.

"Forgive me, my master," his butler then gave the initiative. "But I believe you need to be distracted," he hinted.

Thranduil stopped and looked angrily at his servant. He wasn't actually angry with him; his nerves just lay blank because if there was something he couldn't stand it was ignorance. He eyed the bottles of Dorwinion for a moment, but then decided against it. He needed to have a clear head to make full use of Galion's offer. Not that Galion would have ever refused anything that Thranduil had asked of him.

"Follow me," the king hissed, and Galion did so silently. Having arrived in his private chambers, Thranduil locked the door. He stepped closer to Galion and put a hand on his neck, squeezing it just enough for not hurting him yet.

"Will you offer yourself fully to me?" he demanded, his head up, looking down. He wouldn't need to put his head up though as he was taller than Galion anyway.

"Yes, my king," Galion answered as it was asked from him.

"Will you do anything I say?"

"Yes, my king. With pleasure, my king."

Without any other questions, Thranduil ungently pushed Galion against his desk. The quills container fell onto the surface and distributed the quills over the desk. Galion had caught himself in time to not slam his body onto the wood. While he witnessed Thranduil unbuttoning his gown, he removed the leather protection of his uniform.

"Take off your shirt," Thranduil commanded and Galion obeyed. He was now wearing only his trousers and shoes, while the king stood before him baring his chest and having lowered his pants.

"Attend me," he ordered.

Obediently, Galion bowed down. He breathed warmly onto Thranduil's balls before he started to carefully engulf them with his tender lips. Thranduil was watching him from above and placed his hands into Galion's red-brown hair. When Galion had wetted his goolies enough, he moved on to the shaft of Thranduil's large penis which was only slightly more colourful than his usually pale skin. Thranduil gave the first audible moans when his penis was touched by Galion's mouth.

"Take it all in," Thranduil demanded. Galion licked his lips and spit onto the glans. He then engulfed the penis with his lips and distributed the spit to wet the shaft. He felt Thranduil's clutch on his head tightening and pushing him towards his body. The penis entered deeper and deeper into his mouth, and only when he started gagging, did Thranduil loosen his grip. He gave him hardly enough time to catch his breath for that he pushed his head towards his cock again. After a few times, Galion's head had become red, but he did not stop sucking Thranduil's erection.

Before Thranduil came, he pulled Galion's head away from him and let his hands slide onto his neck again. It made him feel powerful as he could easily choke Galion. The sounds he would make often gave him additional satisfaction.

"Onto the bed," he barked, not yet pleased, and Galion hurried to the king's enormous bed full of cushions and pillows. He strapped off his trousers and underpants and let them fall onto the floor. Thranduil, also having removed his leg wear, strode to his night table and opened the drawer with his favourite toys. He pulled out metal chains which he had stolen from the dungeons many centuries ago.

"Have you behaved lately, Galion?" Thranduil asked while he weighed the chains in his hands.

"No, I have not, Master," Galion answered submissively. He hesitated for a moment, unsure how much truth he should put into this play. "I have, in fact, sinned last night," he muttered.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow to this news. "This is why Cwingand missed you in the cellar yesterday. He thought you would come down for a glass of wine but accused me of stealing your time. For once, I have not been the reason of your absence."

Galion did not respond but looked expectantly at the metal gliding through Thranduil's hands. "I believe you will not tell me by your free will," the King decided and started to chain Galion's left wrist to the bedpost.

"You want me to betray a fellow elf?" Galion asked playfully.

"Interesting," Thranduil responded while walking around the bed and chaining his second wrist. "You said fellow elf and not fellow servant. I know that you entertained Legolas when he was young, but my young prince is keeping his new love mostly for himself."

Upon Galion's lack of reaction, the Woodland King concluded, "you knew of my son's affair with Lord Elrond." He strapped the right leg chain extra hard so that Galion winced.

"It was a servant I made love to last night," Galion admitted, trying to change the topic.

He failed. Thranduil finished the last chain. He had made them so strong this time that Galion could hardly move and the chains at his wrists started already to scrape into his pale skin.

"He was not one of my servants," Thranduil discovered. His voice had been calm this entire time. Focusing on his dominance, he had already forgotten to worry about the peril that his son was in. Exactly what Galion had wanted to achieve. "He was a servant of Elrond's." Thranduil let his heavy gown drop to the floor. He stood naked in front of Galion, still heavily aroused. "And you knew that Elrond lay with my son, night after night, while I was kindly harbouring his people at the prospect of war. And my own servant denied me from knowing what was going on in my very realm." With 'my' he climbed onto the bed and put his knees to the left and right of Galion's chest.

The dark-haired elf was breathing heavily. "Who was it?" Thranduil asked and cowered down, his hair falling onto Galion's hairless chest.

Galion did not reply.

SMACK!

The first slap of Thranduil hit Galion much harder than he had expected. The king was doing anything but going slow today. Galion bit his lip and pushed back tears. His cheek hurt, and as soon as the pain started to wear off, WHACK!, another slap hit him hard. Now, a tear was running from his eye. He knew the safe word, but he was far from using it.

"I slept with Lindir, elf of Imladris, servant of Lord Elrond," Galion admitted.

Thranduil wiped the tear from Galion's face. He licked it off his finger and placed his hand on his servant's neck without a hint of pity in his eyes. But then Thranduil put his weight onto his knees on the pillow next to Galion's head. He bent forward until his penis was in Galion's face.

"Make me cum," he now ordered.

Galion did not wait to be told twice. Cunningly without the use of his hands he sucked and let his tongue play with the tip of Thranduil's hardness. He worked his lips up and down the shaft and kissed the glans. Thranduil's moans became louder. With one hand he found support on the headboard of the bed, with the other he tore at Galion's hair or pushed him towards his cock. Thranduil released at first into Galion's open mouth, but then took his penis into his own hand and rubbed it until more semen ejaculated onto Galion's face. The servant licked his lips and face as far as his tongue could reach – and that was far.

"Please, my king. Would you show me the gratitude of washing my face?" he asked with his eyes closed. He heard the Woodland king chuckle menacingly.

"How am I to punish a servant of mine who takes every punishment so willingly?" he asked rhetorically but stood up to get a better view on Galion's body. He glided with his right foot over Galion's face and smeared the thick, white liquid. He then held his toes into Galion's mouth which his servant licked willingly.

His penis had softened and he rubbed it briskly. Galion still had his eyes closed but knew what was coming. He opened his mouth to swallow the golden liquid. Thranduil aimed directly for his mouth until Galion had to spit out the piss, and then he waved the stream all over Galion's face to wash off the sperm. When he had emptied his bladder, he sat down onto his servant's belly. With his fingers, he wiped Galion's eyes so that he could open them again. Staring into the marvellously brown eyes of his loyal butler, he asked with his ice-cold voice, "what did you and Lindir do last night?"

While Galion started talking, Thranduil fondled his servant's slender body, his chest, his nipples, and his arms that were tied to the bedposts, "yesterday evening, when you descended down to the cellar reservoir of Dorwininion, I knew that my services would not be needed anymore and that you would drown yourself in the marvellous taste of the liquor which would give you all the incentive you needed to please yourself. So I decided to call it a day and return to my servant's chamber. Before I arrived, however, I met Lindir, servant of Lord Elrond. Like you, he was worried about Prince Legolas' and his master's endeavour to investigate any foul play from the fallen castle of Dol Guldur.

"I invited him into my room and lit the torches at the stone walls to shed some light. One is the more desperate when darkness lies around. I produced a bottle of Dorwinion I had stored in my wardrobe."

"Naughty. You steal that precious wine from your master's storage to indulge in it yourself?" Thranduil teased him, well knowing that nearly every elf in his realm treated himself with the potent alcohol from time to time.

Galion smiled. The wounds at his wrist had dyed the pillows red and the pain made him feel as if it was all a dream and as if he was wrapped in many layers of protective cushion.

He continued, "after a glass or two, Lindir started talking about his sorrows and how he is worried about his master. Lord Elrond has known so much pain, but still he helps others whenever possible. He is the kindness in person and a wise leader–"

"I asked you to tell me how you and Lindir made love last night, not to flatter that half-elf that assumes himself enough for my son," Thranduil reprimanded him, gliding his index finger over Galion's lips, before giving him a very soft slap on his cheeks.

"I placed my hand on Lindir and told him that his Master would be alright. I could see a tear rolling down his face. Lord Elrond probably does not know how much Lindir cares for him. I wiped his tear away and we stared deeply into each other's eyes for a long time. I then bent forwards and dared to give him a shy kiss. He responded with another kiss and we both placed our glasses on the floor to start making out. He is so tender when he kisses, and his hands were gliding all over my body. It felt like shy kisses, but he knew what he was doing. We both lay down on the bed and continued. His face is so beautiful when he has closed his eyes. I played with his hair which is really smooth. Then we started slowly to remove each other's clothes, always taking a break to kiss each other. He is very passionate. Everything we did was slow, neither of us wanted to hasten.

"When we were both naked, we started to pet each other's soft skin. He has a very handsome body and we caressed and kissed each spot of us. I then started to lick his balls and take in his penis to make it hard and wet. Even his moans sound so tender and delicate. His breathing is like a calmness. It makes time stop for you. I fetched the bottle of oil from my night table and dripped some of it onto the space between his ball sack and his arsehole. He shivered a bit for that it was a cold sensation. I massaged the viscous liquid into his arse, entering very gently with one finger first, and taking only a second finger when I was sure that it would bring him more pleasure than pain."

While Galion was talking, Thranduil played with his pale skin, but then moved his body onto his servant's thighs. He spit onto the penis and distributed the wetness by robbing the shaft. Galion's speech was now interrupted by occasional moans, but it did not bother Thranduil in the slightest. Au contraire, it amused him and made the storytelling more interesting.

"When I had entered Lindir with my main three fingers, he said 'I am ready'. I took this as an offer and a wish and dripped oil onto my own cock which I had been working on with my other hand when not holding Lindir's bottom in place. With the oil all over my hard penis, entering him was smooth and I glided into him deeply. Lindir moaned and his voice sounds like the chant of an angel. I pulled out until I could nearly see my tip and then went forth again. I moved in a kind rhythm and made sure that whenever Lindir asked something, I would give it to him. Did he ask me to go faster, I went faster. Did he ask me to go deeper, I went deeper. I held his bottom cheeks up to facilitate my penetration, and he looked at me the whole time, with his chest heaving and sinking in synchronisation with my thrusts.

"We kept a steady pace and we both felt as if in trance. Our skin touching was like a wet dream. And but oh, it was no dream. He took one hand to help his own arousal and from time to time, one of my hands joined his and we worked on him together."

Thranduil's grip tightened on Galion's penis. He knew he was going rough and fast.

"We came nearly at the same time," Galion's mind drifted to the moment when his joining with the Imladris elf came to a climax. "I released into him and my breath stopped. My hand was on his was on his penis. He ejaculated all over his lovely body. I lingered in him for a while, enjoying the moment of togetherness. Then I pulled out and licked his belly and chest. We kissed passionately, and then he asked me to give him my penis to taste. He had his eyes closed when his pale lips engulfed my soft member. Had I not just come already, I would have been aroused again."

Thranduil's upwards and downwards movements had increased in pace and Galion's speech was filled by panting and gasps for breath and sounds of arousal. Then at last, Galion released into his master's hand. Thranduil looked at him very pleased. He smeared the white liquid onto the bed clothes and asked, "and then?"

"Lindir and I lay cuddled together until we doze off. The next morning the sun shone into my chambers and enlightened his beautiful face. He smiled at me, and that was the first thing I saw on that day. I wish I could wake up every day to this wonderful sight."

Galion was blushing with his cheeks red. It might have been the story, or the storytelling to Thranduil, or the fact that he was still bound to the bedposts from which no release was in sight. He lay with his head on the side and regarded Thranduil peacefully. His master had not commented on the outcome of Galion's story or that it had seemed like there was more than simple lovemaking in the room between his servant and that of Elrond. He felt like maybe he should pay Lindir a visit and ask him to kindly display how love was made in Imladris. But now, his priority was Galion, his own servant.

"That was a lovely tale," Thranduil said. SMACK! This one Galion had seen coming.

"I have lain with someone not you nor your father nor your son," Galion said pleadingly. "I have been a bad elf and need to be punished." WHACK! "I need to be relieved from my sins for that I can become better." WHAP! "Please, my king. Teach me how to be your most loyal servant." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Galion had hardly time to catch his breath when three slaps followed in quick order, two with the palm and one with the back of the hand. Galion's eyes were teary again. His cheeks had turned red.

"You need to be punished, alright," Thranduil muttered with a threatening voice. His hand now rested on Galion's neck again, and he watched with content how the brown-haired elf was panting for air. Thranduil tightened his grap. He observed calmly how Galion's eyes were growing bigger and his face even redder, and then allowed him to draw breath again. He repeated that game several times before he got up and walked to his desk. He took the red candle off the candleholder and lightened it at the flame of a torch at the stone wall.

"Oh no, Master, this is too hard a punishment. I swear I will behave from now on," Galion said but obviously faking it. He had played this game with both Oropher and Thranduil many times.

"How am I to take your word if you sleep with other elves? With other servants even?" Thranduil answered playfully. He crawled carefully onto the bed. "Will you swear to obey me and only me?"

Galion nodded. "Yes, master."

"Will you swear to tell me whenever you have been disloyal so that I can punish you for it?"

"Yes, master."

With the last answer, Thranduil slightly tilted the candle over Galion's body so that the hot wax dripped onto his hairless skin. Galion moaned as his body became unbearably hot at this spot.

"I will answer to you, my king, and shall I ever endeavour in the pleasure making with other elves, I will tell you," Galion muttered under heavy breathing.

Thranduil's mischievous smile could be seen in the flicker of the light when he tilted the candle again and another drop of the hot, viscous wax landed on a yet untainted spot of Galion's perfect, pale skin. He drew in his breath again and breathed out deeply. He cherished every second of this play with Thranduil. He enjoyed his services to Thranduil as much as those to Oropher and Legolas, the latter preferring less rough sex, but also the romantic night with Lindir was something he liked to merge into.

Thranduil dripped the wax in the form of a heart onto his servant's body. The wax began to cool down and the skin contracted as it hardened. Thranduil blew out the candle in front of Galion's face who inhaled the smoke. He coughed slightly when his king put the candle back onto the night table.

"Your punishment has not yet been severe enough," Thranduil found and regarded his servant like a child regarding its favourite food. He reached over to the night table again and pulled a rope from the drawer. "I feel you are not restrained sufficiently," he said and crawled backwards until Galion's jewels were in sight in front of him. He glided his hands over his balls and penis that lay bent on his belly which was moving with his breath. Then he started to tie the cord around the skin where the balls were connected to the rest of his lower body, pinching off part of the blood circulation. He crawled to Galion's chest and scraped off the dried wax.

Galion bit his lip, determined not to make a sound of pain. They silently looked at Thranduil's work; then the Master moved even further upwards and instead of slapping Galion with his hands, he did so with his big cock. Galion did not complain as the member hit him in his face, over and over again. Then Thranduil started using his hands, too. Galion's cheek had never returned to its paleness, and now it was red again, even bloody where Thranduil's manicured fingernails had scratched the skin.

Thranduil moved to the side of Galion and searched for something in his night table again. Galion knew that he horded a vast variety of toys in there, some made himself, some made by the elves in Imladris or the elves East to the Lonely Mountain. For decades, centuries, millenia, Thranduil had collected these items, learnt to use them in many different ways. Like Elrond knew his way around books, Thranduil did so with the art of physical play.

What Thranduil produced from his collection this time was a chain not unlike the one that he had used to bind his butler to the bed. It was made from rather big, strong, metal elements and shimmered silver in the torches' light. Galion's breath increased at the sight as he knew where this chain would go.

His gaze met Thranduil's. The king weighed the chain in his hands, thinking about the best way to apply it the most painfully. He then decided to shove it up Galion's arse with his left hand while the right he held over Galion's mouth, making it difficult for him to breath. Galion's hole was still lubricated by the oil, so the first few inches worked well. Then he started to feel the pain as Thranduil did not care to enter the chain carefully. He pushed it from the outside and did not guide the chain itself on the inside of Galion. He made noises of pain that pleased the king who would not stop, neither inserting more chain elements nor taking away his large hand from Galion's beautiful, red head.

Thranduil then allowed the brown-haired elf to breathe again as he stood up and walked around the bed. He climbed back onto it on the side in between Galion's legs. He bent forwards and his white, elegant hair glided over Galion's bottom cheeks and his thighs as Thranduil kissed the testicles and penis which were pale. He undid the cord he had tied around them earlier and blood could be pumped back into the arteries. Then, without warning, Thranduil took the metal chain and pulled. The chain sprang out of Galion's arse and flew across the room. The noise of it hitting the wooden floor was vastly drowned in the scream of surprise, horror, and pain. Its blunt edges had still been sharp enough to cut the vulnerable inner skin of his arsehole. When Galion's noises had reduced to a whimpering, Thranduil inserted three fingers at once into his bleeding hole.

Galion's voice shrieked again, but he caught himself in a rather short time. Tears were running down his cheeks. His head had sunken down into the pillow further than before. In his dismay, he had torn his limbs towards the body, having resulted in the chains piercing its way into his wrists and ankles. The blood was dripping onto the white cushion. When Thranduil's hand was all bloody, he pulled out in satisfaction. He wiped his hand and then grabbed the oil as he had gotten a boner.

"You see," he broke the silence that had been in the room for so long, "I am even lubricating myself to enter you." Before Galion was ready, he shoved his hard cock as deep into his servant's tender body as he could. Galion threw his head to the side and tried to bite into the pillow but failed. Thranduil pulled out completely, hand-worked his penis with his right hand, then grabbed with both hands Galion's waist to force himself inside again. Galion's veins could be seen pumping blood into his head.

His vision of his master was blurry, and his eyes were burning because of the tears he was crying. But the king had no mercy on him. Thranduil pushed himself into him once more and once more, always rubbing his penis himself in between. His head was red by now as well and prominent veins had surfaced on his forehead. Before he came, he pulled out and bent his legs to be in an upright kneeling position. He released his load over Galion's face and into the pillow. He then crawled onto Galion, wiped his penis in his face and emptied his bladder on him again. Satisfied with the end result, he got up from the bed and finally released Galion from his chains.

Galion's limbs sacked powerlessly onto the bed. His hands and feet were nearly white while his head equalled that of an overripe apple. His breathing returned to normal. Thranduil bent down so that his face was only an inch away from Galion's.

"Thank you," he said untypically, "for taking my head off things. I think I will have a pleasant sleep tonight." He then left his servant on his bed, dressed, and walked out to another bed chamber of his where he indeed found sleep after only two more cups of his favourite wine, the strong Dorwinion land's brew.


	7. Dol Guldur

**A whole chapter without sex :o Do you enjoy the fact that I brought in a plotline or do you prefer pure elf porn? Please tell me what you think.**

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Chapter 7

The forest canopy became lower and lighter the closer they came to Legolas' grandfather's former kingdom. They could guess that it was late afternoon. There had been a flooding near a lake that had turned the adjacent area into a swamp. The way around it had delayed their travel so that they now arrived later at the ruins than they had planned.

"It still looks abandoned," Legolas noted when the black stones appeared in their view.

"It always looks like that, whether evil hides behind the stones or not," Lord Elrond taught the young elf. They noticed the absence of bird chants. Not that there were many animals making noises ever since Greenwood had turned into Mirkwood. But now it had become so silent that apart from the twigs breaking under their horses' feet, they could each hear their own, elevated breath.

Legolas grabbed the reins tighter. Elrond noticed his tension and reached out to put a hand on the blonde elf's shoulder. "We are only here to investigate whether something is housing here," he reminded him, but that did not put Legolas at ease at all.

Lord Elrond rode ahead to cross the bridge first. It was old, and they could hear some stones loosening and falling down into the abyss. The wind made a howling noise. Even though there was still the sun in the sky, Legolas was not bale to make out the bottom of the valley on either side of the bridge. He could not imagine how beautiful and graceful this place must had looked during his grandfather's time. Now, it seemed haunted and it scared him. They arrived at something that might have been a gathering place centuries ago. Elrond did not comment on the memories he connected with this place but dismounted his horse and continued guiding it by the reins.

"It does indeed look abandoned," he said looking around while Legolas followed his example. Besides their footsteps and breath, there were no sounds. Not a single bird was watching them, not even a bat or an insect. The whole place seemed dead. They bound their horses to a statue in the middle of the place and started to investigate the ruins. But nothing changed much from their first impression.

Elrond strode towards the lookout on the Eastern side. Very soon, he did not hear Legolas anymore. The elf was light and hardly made any noise. Elrond envied him for this ability as he felt that his human side was rather heavy and anything but graceful. He tried to avoid stepping on branches. There must had been a storm as the ground was full of twigs and leaves and dirt.

Suddenly, something changed. Lord Elrond at first did not realise what it was until he noticed how he heard his own heartbeat. The wind had stopped. All of a sudden, not even the tiniest leave bent anymore. He had an unwell feeling and wanted to find Legolas and leave this place. He had just taken the first step into the direction from which he came when he heard a scream. Unmistakably coming from Legolas, a hot shudder went through Elrond's spine. He drew his sword but before he could make a second step, he was suddenly flung back and landed on the floor. Puzzled he looked up and realised that it was a man who he had run against. He held a long, grey staff that he placed on the floor. He was neither young nor particularly old despite the grey beard he fashioned.

"You are a ring-bearer," the man said and pointed with his staff towards Elrond's right hand.

Elrond let his hand hover over the ground to search for the sword he had let fall. The moment he touched the metal, the sword flew several yards away and fell down onto a lower level. Elrond looked back to the man to realise that it had been him who had moved his weapon.

"If you are a ring-bearer," the man now continued, "you are not an elf of this forest. Vilya was given to Ereinion. Are you him?"

Elrond now stood up. He knew that the ring he wore, Vilya, had been given to Gil-Galad, also called Ereinion, many centuries ago. But since his death, he bore the responsibility for it. "You have not been around for a long time," he concluded, "or you would know that Gil-Galad died by the hand of Sauron."

"I have indeed not been here for a long time," the old man said as if dwelling in ancient memories.

"What is your purpose here?" Elrond shouted. His patience was long over. If this person had hurt Legolas, he would not only revenge him like Thranduil would ask from him but like a lover who had lost his only reason to continue in Endor (=Middle-Earth).

The strange man chuckled. "To prepare Arda Marred for the return of The King of the World," he answered.

Elrond wanted to respond but was too surprised by whatever this old man wanted to tell him. So he decided for a one-word question instead, "what?"

"The first dark Lord will return, and Pallando and I have been chosen to prepare these lands for his arrival."

Elrond sighed. "You are Alatar," he muttered, referring to the blue wizard who had once come to middle-earth to support the fight against Sauron. But if he spoke of the return of Morgoth, why should he help him? He had been sent to their region to help the battle against Sauron, a servant of Morgoth. "You were sent here to support our fight against evil. Against Morgoth and his servant Sauron," Elrond said loudly.

"My intents had been misled. In the east, I realised my true purpose!", the wizard shouted aloud and grinned.

_Great_, Elrond thought._ The blue wizards had journeyed to the east to free the world from the influence of evil, but instead they have been corrupted by it themselves_.

"The first dark lord will return through the Door of Night and will cast a shadow through all of the Eastern world. And once the mortals have fallen, the Valar will follow!" Alatar shouted and held his wizard staff high into the air. Suddenly, the wind was back and so were thunder and lightning. Elrond used this moment of noise and light to jump over the ledge on his right and down into the blackness of the ruins. He heard the blue wizard shout something in Black Speech and the stones above him started to crack. The ceiling was giving in and Elrond fetched his sword just in time and jumped out of the way before the heavy rocks began to fall down. He rolled himself into a nearby corridor but was still covered in dust when his heavy body came to a halt. He coughed and panted for air, but still he pushed himself up and started running towards where he guessed Legolas to have screamed.

He heard more stone crashing behind him and tried to hide behind ruin walls to avoid Alatar. But suddenly, the wizard jumped down right in front of him. Elrond wielded his sword at him immediately, but the blue wizard used his staff to shield himself from the attack. They both stumbled backwards. Alatar started muttering words in black speech and stomped his staff onto the floor. Blue sparks flew out of the top crystal towards Elrond and the half-elf was pulled back and crashed into a stone wall. He tasted his own blood in his mouth and spat it out.

"This should have killed you, even though you possess Vilya. A curse dark enough to kill an elf as old as you," Alatar shouted in disbelief and swung his staff once again.

"I am not an elf," Elrond answered. He hardly ever got angry, but he felt something in his inner body boiling. Maybe it was his human rage. But he could also feel how the nearly lost part of Maiar heritance came up in him and flew like energy through his body. All of it combined made him stand up once more and grab his sword. "I am Elrond Peredhil, part-Elf, part-man, and part Maia," he shouted and jumped forwards. Alatar, a Maia having descended to Middle-Earth as a wizard, had not foreseen to fight against someone who possessed powers similar to him, even though in only minor quantity. Surprised by Elrond's sudden attack, the sword clashed against the staff and they both fell to the ground. The staff was mere wood but incorporated magic, so it did not burst by the first impact of the sword.

Without either of the weapons, Elrond and Alatar rolled around on the floor. The Peredhil reached out and hit the old wizard who was nearly powerless without his staff. The wind started to blow again and stronger, and lightning began to illuminate the scene. Alatar managed to kick Elrond into his yembags and crawled towards his staff. Elrond, fighting against the wind, tried to reach his sword. But the wizard was faster. He grabbed the wooden stick and turned around, facing Elrond whose arm was too short to reach his weapon.

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**To be continued...**


	8. The wine cellar

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.**

**Content warning: sex.  
**

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"You told him?" Lindir could not believe his ears. Why on Arda would Galion tell his master about their night of comfort?

Galion nodded.

"But what will he think of me? What if he tells Elrond?" Lindir started to feel hot. He suddenly felt something cool and realised that it was Galion's hand on his.

"Do not worry, Lindir. King Thranduil will not think any lesser of you. In contrast, I think he finds it very eldarin to live out the need. It is only natural to engage in lovemaking with another elf, especially when to spend solace."

Lindir's dark brown eyes were filled with tears. He had started to think of Elrond and his quest again. What if he did not come back? He had built Rivendell and he had filled it with life. Without him, it would become a sad place. It was still decades before they planned to sail West. If Elrond did not return, many would leave now. Who would guide those who wished to remain? What about the many dangers that Rivendell – or any city in Middle Earth – faced? Before he could fall along this spiral downwards of his thoughts, he felt something wet on his mouth. It took him a second to realise what it was, but then he responded Galion's kiss.

But in the blink of an eye, he stepped back. "Not here," he whispered and looked around paranoidly. "What if someone sees us?"

"We'll go to the wine cellar then. King Thranduil is out with the second troop to kill a spider nest and no one will be there at this time of the day." Lindir nodded, and the wood-elf took his hand and guided him downstairs. The storage of the king's favourite beverages was indeed empty of people, and so they found a comfortable niche in which Galion pressed Lindir against a barrel.

Lindir did not know how to resist this elf with his long, squirrel-brown hair. He was handsome and he knew well how to ignite lust. He let his tongue play in Lindir's mouth while his hands glided all over the body. Lindir felt as if he was engulfed by Galion and as if he was all around him. They played for a long time and Lindir did not remember when he had last time felt so aroused. It must have been when Elrond's children had been sent away to their grandparents and he had watched his master with a glass of wine in one and a book in the other hand, focused sternly onto the written pages while listening to the fire crackling in the background. Lindir had excused himself and returned to his chamber to play with himself having this image burnt into his memory. But this now was something else. Back then, Lindir had quickly found release and happiness. Now, he did not even want a hastened release. Galion made him feel too perfect, too wanted, too needed. He enjoyed every touch by this elf, and he enjoyed his hardness pressing against his trousers pressing against Galion.

Galion kissed his neck and licked the point of his ear. Lindir could not help but moan. The woodland-elf's breath in his ear was more pleasant than any summer breeze. Galion proceeded to fondle his skin with his lips, and his hands glided through Lindir's hair. He then fell onto his knees and worked on opening Lindir's trousers. Before he touched his erected penis, he kissed and licked his balls. Lindir leaned back against the wall into the corner which was more comfortable than the barrel. He dug his hands into Galion's hair but let him guide. Galion continued his game of licking and touching, and Lindir realised that he had never received a more professional blowjob. When Thranduil's butler had arrived at the tip of his glans, he thought he would come, but lingered in that state. He was at a point of highest arousal and yet he remained. Galion skilfully began sucking and licking. When Lindir came, he could feel the climax pulsating like his heartbeat. He moaned and cried, not caring for whether someone would hear them. His body was twitching, and he felt a warmth like a cushion all around him. He hardly noticed how Galion heaved him onto the barrel and let him live his climax. He lay his head onto Lindir's thigh and looked up into those dark eyes.

After a while, Lindir thanked him and glided down from the barrel. They shared long and intimate kisses. He had not been this happy for years. He had hardly felt this relaxed back in Rivendell which was his home. And here he was, in the wine cellar of King Thranduil, making love to his personal butler.

Talking about King Thranduil. He stood right around the corner. The fight against the spiders had been quicker than expected as the evil animals had suddenly returned into the cave they had come from. To be on the safe side, Thranduil had ordered rocks and earth to be dropped down the entries and close in the enlarged insects.

"Well," Thranduil decided to intervene and stepped around the corner. Lindir, with his pants down, and Galion, his mouth tasting from Lindir's semen and saliva, stumbled back respectively, being caught in the act. "I fought a hard battle against my realm's enemies and come back to find some tranquillity with wine, and what do I find? My personal servant making love to a deep elf from Imladris." The elven-king's eyes pierced through Lindir who trembled in fear. Galion, who saw this, took his hand.

"Then why do you not join in?" Galion asked.

Lindir mouthed, 'join in?', with a horrified look on his face. Did Galion just seriously suggest a threesome with the most feared elf in the whole of Arda?

But Thranduil gave an evil smile in the corner of his mouth and his eyes lightened up. He walked towards the loving couple. "I think Lindir needs a drink at that prospect," he said and plucked a bottle of wine from the nearest shelf. He loosened the cork with his teeth and then spit it out. He took a big gulp directly from the bottle – something he very, very rarely did – and handed it to Galion. He, too, drank quickly and felt the rush immediately in his blood. He gave the bottle to Lindir who looked at it suspiciously.

Galion laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "Elrond won't find about this. Have you never wondered what the king tastes like?"

"To be honest, no," the high-elf responded but drank nevertheless.

"I could get you near Elrond," Thranduil said. He had an irresistible smile.

Lindir swallowed hard and looked at the light brown-haired servant. "You told him?" He took another gulp.

Thranduil stepped further forwards and pushed the bottle up, forcing Lindir to drink faster.

"Careful, my king. He is not used to it," Galion warned him, and Thranduil allowed Lindir to put down the flask again.

"You are hard, Galion," Thranduil said. "Do you want Lindir to taste how sweet your semen is?"

Galion gave a questioning look to Lindir who nodded and finally achieved a smile of looking forward to this endeavour.

"Face him," Thranduil ordered Galion. "I will make you cum."

Lindir pulled up his trousers before he went onto his knees in front of Galion. He touched Galion's muscular thighs and glided his hands over them before he opened his trousers. Thranduil pulled them completely down from behind, and also let his own trousers drop. He had apparently had wanted to use the wine and the – expected – emptiness of the cellar to work on himself as he had brought a bottle of oil downstairs with him. He massaged several drops over his penis to get it lubricated enough to enter Galion. He also moistened his fingers and glided them into Galion's behind first. He received the well-known sound of his servant's moan as gratitude.

Galion smiled down onto Lindir when Thranduil finally entered him with his penis. The servant placed his hands on the high-elf's shoulders. The Imladris elf looked up when he started rubbing his lips over Galion's erectness. He obviously enjoyed repaying the favour and was maybe even glad for that he was not entered by Thranduil right now. He was quite scared of the elven-king and Galion knew that.

Thranduil now worked like a machine in Galion. Like a well-oiled machine. Galion squeezed his hands into Lindir's shoulder. He could feel Thranduil's breath in his neck. The king had put Galion's hair over his right shoulder so that he could kiss his neck. The butler enjoyed Thranduil's hardness inside of him and his brisk and ungentle thrusts. His commander went smoothly in and out, and Lindir synchronised his sucks. It was such a difference, having the powerful king working in him with force and having the gentle Lindir pleasuring him with tender care. An equilibrium between those two made Galion the first to come and he released into the open mouth of Lindir. It tasted indeed sweet and he swallowed it all, downed it with some of the wine.

"You naughtly servant," Thranduil moaned, "coming before me. If I were not so aroused already, I would punish you." Then he gave a half-moan-half-scream and stayed inside of Galion, giving only small pushes. He dug his head into Galion's hair, smelling the sweet scent of berries he used to wash it, breathing heavily, then laughing silently. Galion closed his eyes and leaned back his head against his king's.

After a while, Galion than squatted down and kissed Lindir who had not gotten up yet. His head was slightly red, but he looked happy. Galion took his hand and helped him up. The wine had had an effect on the high-elf, and he felt comfortable in the warmth that it spent.

"Shall we go somewhere cosier than the cellar?" Galion suggested.

Thranduil led them upstairs and to the bedroom where he and his servant had played dominance and bondage games only two nights ago. By now, the bedclothes had of course been cleaned and replaced.

Lindir had never before been in the chambers of the king and was amazed by the enormity. Like most other parts of the caves, the columns were decorated with carefully made woodcarvings. The bed was king size and looked very comfortable. There was a desk with parchment and quills, a sofa of wool harvested from animals kept in Lake-town, and even a bookshelf. Thranduil did not strike Lindir like a frequent reader, but maybe his standards had only been set high because of Lord Elrond who maybe was the wisest and most well-read elf in all of Middle-Earth.

Galion helped the shy elf take off his clothes and the two servants climbed onto the huge bed full of pillows and cushions they pushed aside. Thranduil took out the oil again and dropped his robes as well.

"Now, Lindir," he said and turned to look at the big, brown eyes of the Imladris elf. He gazed up at the king with expectation, but also with hesitation. Was he really ready to sleep with the elven-king?

"I will not force anything upon you, Lindir," Thranduil said kindly when he climbed onto the bed. He was, after all, an elf, and not a rude Orc or Troll. "You are free to leave. But if you want to experience me, I will do so very carefully. I do not want to hurt you. But I can show you your own body like you haven't felt it in centuries. What say you?"

Lindir swallowed. He might have drunken some wine, but his head was very clear right now. Thranduil was very tall, muscular, well-built, and his hair was perfectly combed and shimmering in the torch light on his bare chest. He looked both mean and affectionate, fierce and gracious. He made Lindir want him in ways he had never felt before. His perfect skin, his tiny wrinkle of his nasolabial fold, his muscular chest, the tender-looking small lips, the way he was taller than any other elf in his realm, his authority. All of this made Lindir feel a sting in his chest.

"Yes, I want to experience you, King Thranduil," he made his decision.

"Galion will assist me. Tell me whenever I rush, I am not used to taking things slowly. Now, lie down and open your legs."

Galion handed his master pillows which he put under Lindir's behind to lift his pelvis. Then Thranduil oiled his hand well and started to enter the deep elf with his index finger. Lindir moaned as he was not used to this kind of work. Galion lay down next to him and started caressing and kissing his chest and nipples. Lindir wanted to close his eyes, but the excitement did not let him. He switched between looking at the blonde elven-beauty and his hazel-brown haired servant who looked cared so much for his well-being.

When Thranduil entered the second finger, Galion worked his way downwards and put his right leg over Lindir's body, crouching on his upper body. His hair fell onto the deep elf's stomach which tickled him a bit. Thranduil made sure that his movements were smooth and rhythmic. Galion bent down and kissed and glided over Galion's thighs with his lips. Lindir was aroused at the pleasant touches on a very sensitive part of his skin. There had not been anyone paying that much attention to his physical body in ages. And especially never two elves at once.

When Thranduil entered a third finger, making Lindir moan louder, Galion started fondling his balls. Lindir rolled his eyes and his body started to tremble with excitement.

"You are very wide now, but it might still be unfamiliar when I enter," Thranduil warned him. "It will get better in time. Tell me if I hurt you too much."

Lindir nodded. He felt a sort way of relief when Thranduil pulled out his fingers.

"Relax, Lindir," Galion advised him and kissed his cock. As Lindir could not relax, Galion moved up to face the deep elf. He glided his hand through his dark brown hair. "Relax. King Thranduil is not going to hurt you," he said and gave Lindir a romantic kiss. His mouth engulfed Lindir's and he ate his lips passionately. Lindir's mouth felt hot and wet, and he played with Galion's tongue. He suddenly felt a push in his behind and his pelvis lifted. It felt unusual but hurt only slightly. He breathed out in relieve and Galion smiled at him. Thranduil pulled out again and glided into Lindir again smoothly. The oil shimmered goldenly in the torchlight.

"Don't stop," Lindir moaned. It felt so well and every time that Thranduil just entered him, he felt a peak in arousal which steadily climbed. He was so happy, and he never wanted this sensation to stop, even as he was nearing the climax. Thranduil worked in him steadily, not fastening his pace, not clashing himself against Lindir but entering him gently as far as it would go. It was the movement itself that aroused Lindir, not the depth with which Thranduil penetrated him.

At the same time, Galion worked on Lindir's erection. He loved the squeaks and moans of Lindir and he was pleased to see the deep elf experience such sexual adventure. When Lindir came, Galion took it all in to give it to Thranduil. He came while kissing Galion and he stayed inside for Lindir for a long time. When they were all happy, king and butler lay down next to Lindir, and Galion cuddled himself at his body.

"I am glad that all this is part of my services to the king," Galion said and smiled at Thranduil who lay pleased and stared at the dark brown-haired elf.

"Elrond has never required such services," Lindir answered, still out of breath.

"I am sure that there are other elves at Imladris who like to explore physical activities beyond reproduction," Thranduil hinted him to find out more.

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**Here, I was told that Thranduil being nice to Lindir seems out of character. The problem is that I began writing this story after having watched only the movies. While writing, I began watching the complete making of and reading the book. In The Hobbit book, Thranduil is much nicer than depicted in the movie. Therefore, my depiction of Thranduil in the story might vary because of Thranduil's mood or because the plot requires it.**


	9. Dol Guldur II

**Another sex-less chapter. I hope you still enjoy it.**

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Chapter 9

Legolas could hear his own breath and his heart beat. He moved nearly silently over the floor, his Eldarin weight was not enough to make the branches break, but the leaves were whirled up by the movement of his feet. He realised how he could not hear Elrond anymore. The half-elf was heavier, and Legolas often noticed his human half – and was strangely attracted to it. It made the Lord feel more real and somehow even more dominant over him. It was contradictory, but Legolas liked it.

He was sure to have perceived a movement in the corner of his eye. He stopped and within the shortest moment, he had his arrow drawn into the direction of the shadow. There was nothing but black tranquillity. He sighed and put the arrow back into his quiver. When he turned around, he did not have time to react to the man in blue robes wielding a bulgy staff that knocked onto the floor and set off aquamarine sparks into his direction. Legolas flew back and heard himself shout in surprise. Before he hit the rocks, which lay scattered on the floor, he had lost consciousness.

When he came back to his senses, night had fallen over the ruins of the once glamorous castle. The wind had become strong again and he could hear stones and rocks clashing onto each other. How long had he been unconscious? _Elrond_, he thought and was up in no time. _He must be in trouble_, he feared. Even though he was a native to the Mirkwood forest and could see well in the dark, he had problems right now. He stumbled forwards, but then – most luckily for him – the moon came out from behind the rainy clouds. He could make out Elrond facing the man that had knocked him unconscious. While Legolas hasted towards them, lightning stroke the forest trees. Fortunately, it had begun to rain so that a forest fire was very much unlikely.

Elrond and the blue wizard were tumbling around, trying to reach their weapons. The grey-haired man had just grabbed his staff and pointed it menacingly at Elrond who froze and looked up.

"Drop the staff," Legolas commanded loudly. The wizard turned around and looked at the tip of the arrow that Legolas had drawn. During the distraction, Elrond reached for his sword, swung it muttering words of his Maia ancestor, and broke the wizard's staff into two halves.

"No!" Alatar shouted and sunk onto the knees in front of his broken staff.

"You will be brought back to the Elven-king's fortress as a traitor and servant of Morgoth," Lord Elrond said decisively and held the sword next to the wizard's neck. He did not react, so Legolas hieved the heavy man up. He did not resist but let them take him.

They returned to the horses and Legolas found some rope with which they bound the wizard's hands.

"I am sure that Mithrandir will want a word or two with him," Elrond muttered while they shoved the heavy man onto Legolas horse. They made sure he could grip the reins and would not fall of the transport animal. Then Elrond and Legolas mounted onto the Lord's horse. While Elrond held the reins, Legolas would guide his horse with an additional rope. Their journey back took long as they constantly had a watch over their prisoner, even at night. They could not go faster than pace, and during the night, they needed to keep a lantern lit to keep an eye on the wizard. But the light made them fear for orcs and spiders, so even when it was not their turn to watch, they could hardly sleep. During the day, when they were riding, Legolas sat in the saddle right behind Elrond, his pelvis pressed against his. He could smell his brown hair; sometimes the wind made his mane blow into his face. He liked the odour, and he liked how Elrond's body moved slightly in tact with the horse's walk. All this aroused Legolas, and it drove him made that he could not be intimate with his lover. Such a long time of the day he was staring at his back, at his beautiful hair that felt so soft. When they took a break to eat, he could not gaze at him as he was constantly keeping an eye on Alatar. Legolas knew that he would soon have to make love to Elrond, or he would die of desire.

It had become the second nightfall after the night they defeated the blue wizard. Legolas could see with his keen eye the all too familiar valley which he loved to play in as a young elfling. A guard on a patrol ride saw them and quickly rode back to the elven-king to over bring him the message.

When Elrond and Legolas arrived within the walls of the fortified castle, King Thranduil was already expecting them in his long, silver-glittering robes. His crown had changed to autumn decoration for it was becoming colder again.

"Ionnín," he said when Legolas climbed down from the horse. "Who is it you have brought into my realm?"

"This is Alatar, one of the Istari who came to our realm millenia ago," Lord Elrond explained.

"Correct me if I am mistaken," Thranduil said in an arrogant tone, eyeballing the wizard in blue robes, "but did the blue wizards not set out for the East and were ever since gone?"

"He said he came back to prepare this world for the return of Morgoth," Legolas informed his father.

"Morgoth?" Thranduil's face shortly showed an expression of disbelief and terror. He had been young during the war against Morgoth's servant and could hardly imagine the devastation that Morgoth himself would bring upon this land.

"Morgoth is banished and there is no way he can return… can he?" Legolas turned to the wise half-elf.

"I would have said no. But as Alatar seemed so far with his plans, I would not leave it to speculation. We have to make sure that the Door of Night will never be opened," the Peredhil said.

"I shall interrogate this Istari," Thranduil said and winked two guards over to him. "Prepare the torture chamber in the dungeon," he ordered, and the two guards nodded and took the old wizard with them.

"Do you believe torture will bring you any further in this matter?" Lord Elrond asked. It was his job as a lord to second-guess a foolish endeavour of his king, but he had to formulate it in the most polite way possible.

"Every man, Orc, dwarf, - and even a wizard can be broken," Thranduil answered, his ice-blue eyes shining coldly.

Elrond sighed. "I will assist you," he decided.

Thranduil's face changed only one muscle to show his surprise at that offer. "Your gift to enter another one's mind?"

Elrond nodded. He knew that he would regret it. Thranduil was much more cruel than he was, and torturing this wizard together would make him cross a line. But how many lines had Thranduil already made him cross in the last few days? One personal limit more or less would not impede the crossing towards the West.


	10. Meanwhile in Rivendell

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.**

**Content warning: sex, incest.  
**

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Chapter 10

"A storm is coming," Erestor muttered darkly. Indeed, the clouds had gathered and were shadowing the valley in the past hours. Glorfindel ignored Erestor's warning though when he rushed past him to get the horses off the pasture. The sky was becoming a dark blue that gave the feeling of an early night even though it was only early afternoon. Glorfindel skilfully shooed the last five horses towards the shed and managed to lock them inside just before the first drops of rain reached the ground. He hurried back inside only to be nearly overrun by the twins who were looking for shelter in Elrond's house after having brought straw bales into safety. All three of them reached the last homely house just before the first lightening stroke afar.

"It is coming towards us," Erestor said as a forewarning and left to his family's rooms, reaching them before the rain had gained in strength and began pouring down on the roof, draining the acres, and filling up the river.

"Father always said that the best you can do during a thunderstorm is to stay inside, drink tea, and watch nature play from behind a window," Elladan said.

"I'm going to make some tea," Elrohir offered and went towards the kitchen. The chef and staff had left for the afternoon. Dinner was not to start before many hours and the elves wanted to be in their own houses when the rain began to fall.

Elladan and Glorfindel left towards Elrond's study. "I like thunderstorms," Glorfindel said with a slight shimmering in his eyes.

"Only when I am inside," Elladan added. "Father used to read us stories while we had our cup of tea. But one day, Elrohir and I got caught in a thunderstorm during a ride towards Gundabad. We hid among the rocks on a wide field and lay down as low as we could. The storm passed us by only a few miles, but the thunder was terrifyingly loud. When we could mount our horses again, we came past an old oak that had been struck by lightning. It had split the tree not into half, like you have heard of before, but into four equal parts, each spread out into another cardinal direction. It reminded us that nature is the strongest force in these lands and is never to be underestimated." The Lord's son had stopped in front of a window that allowed him to view the whole valley that had been plunged into darkness.

Glorfindel touched his shoulder, imagining what impact such an event must have had on the young elf. The scenery on the outside was occasionally illuminated by a thunderbolt.

"I know what fire can do," he muttered.

Elladan, knowing the terrible fate of Glorfindel's once glorious city, put his hand on Glorfindel's on his shoulder. They looked deeply and sadly into each other's eyes when the door opened and Elrohir came in with a pot of tea in one and three cups in the other hand. He balanced them towards the table next to a window and poured some liquid for all of them. His twin brother and Glorfindel joined him.

They were silently sipping their tea, the raindrops hitting the window in an irregular rhythm. Elrohir suddenly stood up and lit two more torches at the wall as the darkness had now completely enclosed the elven town. The moment he sat down again, the so far loudest thunder rumbled through the air.

Elladan twitched, something that did not go unnoticed by the blonde Lord. He reached out and touched his hand which was playing with the handle of his cup. "We are on the inside," he said. "There is nothing that can happen to us. Also, it is raining which greatly reduces the chances of a wildfire."

Elladan nodded, ashamed for his fear.

Elrohir simply continued sipping his tea. Another lightening stroke again, and this time the thunder followed rather quickly which made even Elrohir nervous.

"We should distract ourselves," he said and looked out of the window. He could not see anything but blackness and silver-looking raindrops hitting against the glass.

"A game of chess?" Elladan voiced a suggestion.

"Boring," Glorfindel decided. "The time you take to think about your next move will make your thoughts return to the presence and every thunderbolt will increase your fear."

"Then suggest something that takes the outside world off our mind," Elrohir challenged him.

Glorfindel chuckled. "There is something I used to do when I needed to empty my mind. In Gondolin we had no thunderstorms but a few decades ago, Rúmil and I were taking cover in a cave on the way to his home in Lothlórien when we were caught in a terrible storm."

"Oh, I can imagine what kind of activity the two of you engaged in two pass the time," Elrohir said and rolled his eyes.

"The same that the two of you engaged in with Aragorn before he exchanged you for Legolas and later for Arwen," Glorfindel muttered with a mischievous smile.

"Father does not know, does he?" Elladan asked nervously and turned his head from the window to Glorfindel. A loud thunder rolled through the sky.

The blonde elf laughed silently. "No, he didn't find out about the two of you and Aragorn or Legolas. I am unsure, however, if he won't find out about the latter in the future."

"What do you mean?" Elrohir asked.

"How long have the elves of Middle-Earth now joined together to fight the uprising darkness?"

"Four years," Elrohir answered, obviously confused by the question.

"And in that time, envoys from Imladris and Mirkwood have been visiting each other. Such often visits are not without consequences."

"Is Legolas seeing an elf from Imladris?" Elladan asked surprised.

"He and your father began a secret relationship less than three years ago. Why do you think Elrond wants to lead the troops to Mirkwood so often? Why do you think Legolas is among the party heading to Imladris every time?"

The twins kept silence and gave at each other meaningful looks. Glorfindel laughed this time; mixed with the thunder it sounded menacing.

"But…", Elladan began.

"And who have you been seeing?" Elrohir asked.

Glorfindel smiled. He knew they would figure out his hints. "Galion."

"King Thranduil's butler?"

Glorfindel nodded. "It was just fun. He is fun. And he is a very old and experienced elf. We live for centuries, what else are we supposed to do for passing the time? Read books all the time? Perfect the arts? Train our battle skills? You can do this for a few centuries, but what is the point? The eldarin body is so rich that exploration never stops. You never got bored of Aragorn or Legolas… or each other?"

"Do you know everything that happens within this city?" Elrohir asked.

"Of course, I do," Glorfindel said and leaned back satisfied. He took another sip of the tea.

Elladan and Elrohir shook their heads. They were glad, however, that Glorfindel was their father's closest counsellor as he saw many things from a different perspective.

A lightning stroke very close and the thunder made the twins both jump up and rush to the window. Glorfindel slowly put the cup down and stepped behind them. He put a hand onto a shoulder of each of them and told them, "relax."

"The lightening has split a tree. Look!" Elladan said and pointed into the dark. Indeed, the aftermath of the lightening could be identified: A tree was lying on its side and smouldering. The fire was quickly put out by the rain, but still, having seen such a giant tree fall onto its side demonstrated the enormous force of nature.

The twins were calming down again and turned to Glorfindel.

"Do you want to be distracted?" he asked putting his hands on their hips and pulling them closer.

"Teach us what you know," Elladan said, and both he and his brother bent forward to give Glorfindel a kiss on his cheeks.

The blonde elf took the twins by their hands and led them away from the window. He started undressing them, one clothing item at a time, then turning to the other twin. In between, the twin he did not undress opened parts of Glorfindel's robes so that after a while they all stood there naked.

"Now, do you want to show me what you have learnt with Aragorn and Legolas?" Glorfindel asked and started rubbing his tool.

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other and then got down onto their knees. Elladan immediately started wetting and sucking at Glorfindel's penis while Elrohir started kissing his groin area. The blonde lord smiled but signalled them to stop after a while.

"You are starting to quickly," he said. He told Elrohir to lie down on the floor and picked up some pillows from the chairs to put them under his bottom and head. He then kneed down next to him and in front of Elladan.

"First start by kissing him. You did this part right," Glorfindel instructed Elladan and bent down. His long, untied hair dropped down onto the pale skin of the twin. Glorfindel started kissing Elrohir's thighs and worked his way alongside the groin up to the abdomen. He then started licking around the hairless shaft. With his mouth full of saliva, he began encircling the shaft and wetted it. His long tongue licked around the glans, making Elrohir moan and roll his eyes.

"You try," the Lord said and Elladan repeated Glorfindel's movements.

"Don't stop," Elrohir begged his twin once he had arrived at the glans.

"Lick it and suck it. Move your lips around on his glans. But make sure that you use enough spit," the blonde elf lectured the youngling while watching him carefully. After a while, Glorfindel was satisfied with Elladan's performance.

"Now show me," he said and leaned back, supporting his hands on the floor. Elladan bent over his twin's body and started sucking Glorfindel's wood.

"Yes," he moaned, "spit on it. Make sure it is very wet. It will help gliding movements."

Elladan did as he was told and brought a smile on Glorfindel's face. He then pushed the twin back again and bent over the other twin's body. He gave him long, silent kisses and devoured Elrohir's mouth. The twin lying on the floor gave moans of satisfaction.

"You're a good kisser," Glorfindel said and then kissed Elladan. "Put your tongue deeper into my mouth," he ordered and was surprised by how quickly the young elf learnt. "I don't know why Legolas gave up on you for your father," he found. "Now go down on him," he said and watched Elladan's mouth moving gently over his brother's neck, collarbone, kiss his nipples, his chest, his belly and return to the penis. "Slowly," the blonde elf instructed him and Elladan obeyed. Elrohir kept his eyes closed while his penis was well erect. Glorfindel kept playing with his own erection while watching the twins.

"Now get up, both of you," he said, and the two brown-haired elves followed his command. "Which one of you wants to be prepared first?" he asked.

"Elrohir," Elladan said.

Glorfindel told Elladan to bend over and place his hands onto his father's study desk for support. He wiped away the books and parchments which lay in his way. Then Glorfindel strode over to the bookshelf, took out a book about dwarfish children tales translated into Sindarin and picked up a bottle of oil that was to be found behind it.

"Oh Valar," Elladan muttered. He had not known that their father had been keeping lubricating oil in here for naughty play during his study. No wonder that Elrond and Legolas loved to engage in "literature discussions" in the late evenings.

Glorfindel smirked. The twins had no idea how well he knew their father. He handed the oil bottle to Elladan who dripped some of the viscous liquid onto his hands. He started entering his brother with one finger at a time. When he had arrived at three fingers, he wanted to stop.

"Put in your whole hand," Glorfindel demanded.

"No," Elrohir asked, but Glorfindel applied more oil onto the skin over his butthole. Elladan wiped his already wetted hand in it and used the second one to support his grip on his brother's waist. When both his right hand as well as Elrohir's behind were wet and smooth, he glided deeper into him than ever before, holding his fingers together as if forming a beak of a bird. Elrohir wanted to scream out loud, but Glorfindel placed the twin's underwear into his mouth, making him gag at first, but bite his teeth deeply into the cloth. "Thanks," the twin muffled.

Elladan took a shine on hearing the sweet, muffled voice of his brother and moved his hand inside of him. He pulled out just to shove it right back in. Glorfindel laughed maliciously. He had not intended to play the twins out against each other but watching this slightly sadistic play made his blood rush through his head. He rubbed his penis and knew that he would soon need some action himself.

"Very well, Elladan," he said. "Now prepare me." He moved himself behind Elrohir who was still standing bent over his father's desk. He put his hands onto Elrohir's pelvis and dug his face into the dark brown hair.

"How do you feel?" he asked while he felt the coldness of the oil that Elladan dripped onto his butt.

"Wide," Elrohir moaned. He was very much aroused and had not anticipated that Glorfindel massaged his pelvis and then moved his left hand to grab his penis.

While Elladan prepared Glorfindel's ass, Glorfindel worked on both his own and on Elrohir's erection.

"I am ready," Glorfindel said when he already needed to suppress further arousal. He moved closer to Elrohir and carefully penetrated him. He could hear a sound of joy from the elf's mouth. From behind, Elladan shoved his hard cock into Glorfindel. The blonde elf could feel the breath of the twin on his back.

"Now we work," he instructed them. Elrohir only moved slightly, guided by Glorfindel's hand on his penis that he continuously rubbed. Glorfindel let Elladan guide him at his pelvis so that the gentle thrusts moved very deep into him. He listened to the same gasps and moans from in front of and behind him. They properly worked as all three of them started to get hot. Elladan and Elrohir, being only part-Elvish, began to sweat slightly, the scent of which reminded Glorfindel of his nights with Elrond. He imagined Elrond in front of him, skilfully sucking his dick.

He came into Elrohir's ass, and while he was enjoying himself inside of the dark-haired elf, his twin brother released into him. Glorfindel, despite closing his eyes and relishing the moment, continued rubbing Elrohir's penis so that he ejaculated as the last of the elves, into Glorfindel's hand. He quickly took the older elf's hand into his mouth and gratefully licked his white semen completely off. They stayed in the chain for a while until all their penises became flaccid. They pulled out and cuddled on the floor, with the pillows under their heads. Glorfindel loved the twins laying their heads on his shoulder, them gently kissing his nipples and their hands gliding over his muscular upper body. If the thunderstorm had not ceased and they feared to be discovered by the elves returning to Elrond's house, they would have stayed like this much longer.


	11. The dungeons

**Content warning: violence, torture!  
**

* * *

Chapter 11

Elrond had never before been down in the dungeons. He had heard Bilbo's story of when Thorin and company had been imprisoned here. Even though Thorin had been kept lower than the other dwarves, Elrond was sure that none of them had descended as deep into the earth as they did now. The light of the sky did not shine down here and only the torch that Galion was carrying illuminated the way. The two elves arrived at a plateau and stepped through a dark, wooden door that looked very heavy.

They ended up in a room that was maybe half as big as Legolas' night chambers. The ceiling was low, and he saw a shadowy figure in the middle that had to be Thranduil. Only the king was so big that he nearly touched the ceiling above them. He had changed and wore now a skintight suit in dark shimmering crimson. His hair was tied back in extensively time-consuming braids that Elrond was sure were the doing of Galion. He stood out from the background as his blonde hair and elegant robes were in contrast to the dampness and foul smell of the place. There were three fireplaces which illuminated the scene in addition to Galion's torch which he put into a holder. There were benches and tables with all kinds of instruments and ropes. Elrond wondered whether the king went down to these dungeons for more than just torture sometimes.

In front of Thranduil hang Alatar from the ceiling, his wrists chained. He had been stripped naked and revealed a tanned skin covered by grey hair. Elrond had never seen someone who was not a dwarf to be that hairy and he found it repugnant. Obviously, so did Thranduil. His face told him that he did not want to spend more time with this enterprise than necessary.

Thranduil strode over to the tables and regarded the instruments most of which Lord Elrond could not identify after centuries of war and terror in Middle Earth. His foster father had been a cruel man who he had never been able to truly grow to love, and even him he could not imagine with such tools.

"Most of them are dwarf-made," Thranduil said as if very proud of the irony. "Dwarves were also the most often recipients of their do." He took up a long metal rod, a fire iron, with a decorated stamp at one end. It would serve as a stamp to brand the skin of the tortured person and show everyone who it was that he offended. He held the rod into the fire until the end glowed yellow red. He then held the rod high, glancing at the glowing end. A slight smile flickered on his face.

Elrond hardly saw the king move as suddenly he already heard the blue wizard scream. Thranduil had pressed the glowing stamp onto his skin, his pelvis. Smoke indicated the burning of the upper skin and the sound was rather unpleasant. Elrond walked closer and immediately smelled the familiar odour of burnt human flesh.

Thranduil did not wait much. He changed the glowing rod for an instrument that looked like a metal box consisting of a lot of plates and screws. Elrond could not identify its purpose until he watched Thranduil place it on the wizard's left hand.

"You came here to prepare our lands for the return of Morgoth," Thranduil said. His voice was loud and rough, and in these surroundings, a chill went down Elrond's spine. "Yet you went east with another Istar wizard, going by the name of Pallando." The chill was combined with something itch in Elrond's lower area. This place was foul and dirty and they were torturing a man, how could Elrond become aroused at this?

"You will all fall in the shadow of Morgoth and condemned until the end of days," Alatar said when he had gathered strength again. The branding on his skin was still aching. But he was a Maia and he could endure more than any mortal inhabitant of Middle Earth.

Thranduil had already expected such an answer and loosened a screw in the metal box. It clicked and more yells by the wizard echoed in the darkened room. Elrond flinched and bit his tongue once he realised what Thranduil had done to him: The box clenched the fingers of the wizard and bent them until they broke. All five fingers at once. It was quite an efficient tool and Elrond was sure it was an invention by an elf, not a dwarf. He must have twitched quite much as he felt Galion's hand on his shoulder. He had nearly forgotten that the butler was still with them as he had kept to the shadows and not moved.

Thranduil removed the casket and applied it to the other hand. Alatar had not stopped panting for air.

"I know that you are immortal. But what purpose has a mind if its body is crippled." He initiated the mechanism and this time Elrond recognised the sound of crushing bones. Blood dripped out of the metal box. All of this was hardly as bad to look at as to hear Alatar's screams.

"Even if you die in here, I will find your re-embodiment and continue torturing him," Thranduil said. His voice was calm. He knew that he would not be able to break Alatar. He only wanted to prepare him. If his body suffered, his mind could easier be broken. Elrond knew that he would have to do the hard work.

Thranduil relieved the wizard of the blood-stained instrument. Galion hurried forwards and took it to start with the cleaning.

"I think I should offer my help," Lord Elrond said and stepped forward. Be it an evil Istari or not. He did not like to see suffering, but often it was inevitable. He had always lived a life of respecting every living creature and to avoid physical conflict if possible. But during the war of the last alliance and now as evil was on the rise again, he knew that there was often no way around inflicting pain on other beings.

Thranduil seemed to be disappointed that Elrond interrupted him so early, but he nodded. "Let me help you," he said and grabbed two long, metal boots from the table. Elrond sighed and help Thranduil put them around the wizard's legs. "When I screw the metal plates tighter, his skin and bones will be crushed. The pain will ease your entering into his mind," the king explained his way of thoughts.

Elrond muttered something along the lines, "I appreciate it." While he had been crouching down on the floor, which had obviously often been wiped in the futile endeavour to wish away the stains of blood, sweat, and other bodily secrets, he had smelled again the citrus scent of Thranduil's skin. His hair was so neatly tied back that Elrond paid attention for the first time to his cheek bones. They were not as prominent as his son's, but his cheeks looked so full and his lips so tender. He looked soft, but everything about him proved the opposite. Elrond could not help but feel his heart beat faster in the presence of his lover's father.

"You are familiar with ósanwe," Elrond stood up and looked into the wizard's eyes who were at the height of his own.

"The power to enter one's mind," the wizard muttered crunching his teeth.

"I do not wish to hurt you, but you are giving me no choice," Elrond said calmly and lay his fingertips on the wizard's cheeks. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his mental abilities. He sensed how Thranduil began tightening the boots, slowly cutting into the wizard's flesh and soon crushing his bones.

Elrond felt the presence of Alatar's mind and connected his own mind to his. The Istari possessed high willpower, but the pain was a distraction that allowed the half-elf to enter his mind deeper and deeper, uncovering all kind of memories. Elrond read his mind like flashes of pictures, all without order, all of different length. The discussion with the Valar about sending him and the other Maia to Middle Earth, the journey East, the subduing of the Eastern people, the foundation of secret magic societies. And then he found it. Conversations between the two wizards, about how their endeavour was pointless, how their mortal embodiment had become torture, and how Morgoth promised them to return to pure light, to become free of any mortality or any pain.

"Pallando the Blue has also returned to Middle Earth," Elrond stated. His hands trembled, and Alatar was still fighting him. Thranduil tightened the boots and started the torsion. Elrond heard the unpleasant sound of bones cracking. Alatar bit is teeth which added a noise that sent shudders down Elrond's spine. He focused on his thoughts. "Alatar brought together the evil forces of Mirkwood to start attacking us and men. Pallando is tasked with creating fear in dwarfish and hobbit towns. They want to destroy our will to fight before they open the Door of Night."

"How does he plan to do it?" Thranduil asked. Blood was running down the iron boots and dripping onto his hands.

Elrond concentrated. The wizard was a strong maia, and he was only part-maia. But he knew that he had immense power, or he would not have achieved what he had. He simply needed to unlock it, to be freed of the limitations of his half-elven body. He heard Thranduil apply force again. The wizard screamed internally, but Elrond focused his mind on him, trying to not connect himself to Alatar's pain feeling. He felt like an intruder, he felt like psychologically torturing him. It was against his nature, but he believed that in this particular case, the end justified the means. Or at least he would keep telling himself this for the rest of his life on this continent.

Suddenly, Thranduil saw how Elrond lifted his fingers, breaking the connection. "What?" he asked and tightened the boots further . More blood streamed over his hand, more screams by the wizard. "Why are you stopping?" He watched Elrond step back.

"He and Pallando planned to slaughter Eärendil," Lord Elrond stammered. "They were to meet west of Mirkwood once we were involved in enough skirmishes."

"Your father, Eärendil, is sailing the sky like the sea, guarding the Door of Night and the Gates of Morning. If they succeed in killing him, Morgoth might return and destroy the entrances for the sun and the moon," Galion summarised. He had finished cleaning the bone-breaking device and stepped forward into the light of the torches.

"'When the world is old and the Powers have grown weary, Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of the Night out of the Timeless Void –" Elrond began.

To the surprise of both the Lord and the King, Galion knew to complete the sentence, "– all shall be darkness, for the sun he will turn to black, and the moon will no longer shed his light.' The prophecy of Mandos. Will it turn true?" Galion, who always kept his cool, seemed to be nervous. His wet hands were slightly shaking.

"If so, we will get help and Morgoth shall be defeated," Lord Elrond said but convinced no one. He was staring into empty space.

"Who will help us?" Thranduil asked. He stood up and looked at the Lord with a stern expression.

Galion answered instead, "Tulkas, a Vala of war, Eönwë, a Maia, and Túrin of Hador. He will be the one to rid us all of Morgoth forever."

"Lord Elrond," King Thranduil said, obviously not amused about the fact that he, the elven-king, had to ask someone else for advice. "What do we do now?"


	12. Thranduil's chambers

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**_Sex must always be consensual. And safe._**

**Okay, difficult chapter. Ethically not completely correct. I am not happy with this chapter and I do not support it. It serves merely the plotline. Also, C. gave me the idea. I just... wrote it this way. **

**Content warning: violence, abuse, BDSM, abuse of substances [Hobbit weed], dominance/ submission, wet play,...  
**

**Also, a very, very long chapter. I had it originally split into two parts but that gave way for problems with chapter counting.**

* * *

Chapter 12

Instead of giving an answer, Elrond turned and walked towards the door. On his way out, he said "I need to do research", and with that he was gone.

"We might still need the Istari," Thranduil decided and cast a glance upon the wizard, hanging from the ceiling. "Your body has remarkable strength," he said and took off the metal boots. Blood squashed onto the floor, covering it in brown. Galion rushed forwards to take the metal and start cleaning it.

"When you are done cleaning, let the wizard rot in his dungeon cell until Elrond knows what to do with him," Thranduil informed his butler. "Bind off the blood circulation to his legs so that he will not bleed out. Tell a nurse to keep constant guard on him. If he dies, we do not know where he will return to our world in his new body. When you are done cleaning, tell Legolas to come by the throne where I await him. I shall then have you prepare a bath for me."

* * *

Elrond was so deeply focused on the papers of unbound parchment that he did not hear the footsteps nearing him. He was in Thranduil's study, something he had not thought to exist centuries ago. His collection of literature was by far smaller than his own at Imladris. He looked up when someone stepped in front of the desk. It was Legolas.

"You have been down here for hours. It has turned night. I brought you something to eat," Legolas said with a light voice. He placed a bowl of porridge mixed with forest fruits onto the paper that Elrond was reading. He shoved it aside.

"I need to continue this. The whole world as we know it might be in danger," he said but kindly.

"How will you save the world with an empty stomach?" Legolas asked softly. He did not take it personal; he knew that Elrond was very worried about his biological father.

"My father has sent troops to both the dwarf settlements around Erebor as well as the Hobbit-lands west to the Misty Mountains. They are to find Pallando and bring him here before he can do more harm."

"Pallando and Alatar were to meet West of the Shire, ready to search the Sea for Eärendil. If Alatar does not come, I do not know what Pallando will do. I fear he will continue his mission on his own."

"What about those who come to help us?" Legolas asked. He was visibly shaken by the news of impending doom.

"The works are incomplete," Elrond said with light anger in his voice and dropped the parchment. "I will need to ride to Imladris and consult my own books. They contain more detail about what is upon us."

"First, my Lord, you must eat. Or shall I feed you?" Legolas grabbed the bowl and pressed it into Elrond's hands. The Peredhel sighed and began to spoon it.

* * *

While Elrond was packing his most important things, Legolas returned unsatisfied to the king's halls to where he was called by Galion – only to find Thranduil very angrily pacing up and down in front of his throne. There were no guards around; Legolas assumed he had sent them away or they had fled from his fit of rage.

"What is it, father?" Legolas asked carefully.

Thranduil stopped to look at his son. "The first ravens have returned from the East. Were-worms have attacked the dwarves and men. Dale was reduced to a pile of ashes and dust. Erebor was fortified and able to hold off the attackers. Reinforcements from the Iron Mountains are on their way and I have sent troops of ours as well." He grimaced at the thought of helping out dwarves. "It happened over night. Pallando must have bewitched the worms for that they were more aggressive and harder to kill than normal." He began to pace up and down again.

"Have you drunk?" Legolas asked. He knew that his father preferred to drown his sorrows in Dorwinion.

"No, and that is the problem," Thranduil answered. His voice was harsh, and he was effervescing with anger and energy. "How could we let it come so far?" he suddenly shouted. "Why did we not act earlier?"

Legolas wanted to answer, but he knew his father was best not interrupted during such an outburst of fury.

"Pallando is probably crossing Mirkwood right now under our nose, heading for the Hobbit settlements to reduce them to rubble as well. Then he will find Eärendil and send upon us the end of all days."

Thranduil grabbed a wooden column for support. He felt a pain running through his body.

"You need to calm down, father. It is not your fault that we did not see this coming."

"I am the king of these woods. I see and hear everything that happens a thousand miles into each direction. Ever since the fall of Lothlórien I feel the more responsible for the fate of the children of Ilúvatar. Those who gave their lives in Dale were men. They are supposed to be under our protection; it is written so in our trading contracts."

Legolas had endured many eruptions of his father, but it still scared him when his father raised his voice. He was a strong and violent man and his punishment was never carried lightly. Legolas had learnt that very early as a child. Now, he had to witness how his father's head was red, his veins could be seen pumping blood and his eyelids were quivering.

Thranduil, who had bent down to him, straightened his back again. "Turn around." His voice had returned to a normal volume, but still there was a trembling in his tone.

Legolas closed his eyes. He should have anticipated it. He trembled himself as he did as his father commanded. He lowered his pants and prepared himself mentally. This time he had not done anything to anger his father, but he was the only person around to calm him down. He wondered where Galion was and whether the butler was avoiding his king on purpose.

"Undress yourself completely," Thranduil said and Legolas did so while hearing his father dropping his trousers to the ground as well.

Legolas flinched when his father laid his hand on his hips. He could hear him breath deeply as he was still overflowing with anger.

"Onto the floor," Thranduil ordered and Legolas did as he was told. He felt his father's knee at his hip and knew that he was getting himself ready. He quickly grabbed his underpants and put it into his mouth. His father's hands felt cold on his waist and he knew that he would soon endure a pain he had felt so often but was never prepared for. Neither was he this time. He screamed so loud he was sure that someone must have heard him. It was as if somebody was forcing a dick of sandpaper into his butt, turning and twisting it inside him and pulling it out only to shove it in with twice the force.

Thranduil worked deep and fast. His balls were hitting Legolas' butt cheeks over and over again, synchronised with his yells for him to stop or go slower. Halfway through, the underpants dropped out of the son's mouth while shouting. He wanted to put it back in, but his fingers were clenching so hard into the garments that lay on the floor that he could not open his fist. He held his mouth open to breathe, occasionally realising that he was biting his teeth too hard and opening the mouth again to pant for air and to yell at or curse his father. It seemed for him like ages until his father's movements slowed down and he felt how he released into him.

Thranduil did not stop moving, much to Legolas' frustration. He kept thrusting into him until his dick became limp. Finally, he pulled out and let go his tight grip of Legolas. His son fell onto the floor and rolled onto his back. He kept lying there, his face red, his eyes tear-swollen, his asshole red and his waist showing marks of his father's big hands. He could not move, only absorb all the pain and the emotion and lie there. Wordlessly, Thranduil dressed himself again and left, letting his son lying on the floor in front of his throne.

Legolas was still lying there, naked and vulnerable, when Elrond wanted to inform the King of his imminent departure. But instead of Thranduil, he found his son, in front of the mighty throne, staring into the sunlight which came down in rays from the holes in the ground which illuminated the underground palace.

Lord Elrond quickly hurried to his lover. Legolas smiled at him. "Elrond…" he whispered.

"What happened?" the half-elf asked and nervously inspected the young elf's body. He was a healer, but he found no wound. Then he recognised the imprint of Thranduil's hands on his son which had left dark bruises. "Oh no," he muttered and gently turned Legolas to his side. His butthole was roughened and red and there were traces of blood. "What has your father done to you?"

"He had no one else. It is the order of things."

"A father should not lay his hand on his only son like this."

"Have you never punished your sons, Elrond?" Legolas asked, his lips still showing a weak smile.

"I have never abused my sons."

"It is not abuse if I did so willingly."

"Oh Legolas," Elrond said and grabbed his lover tight and hugged him. "I will never do such things to you. I will never hurt you. I will never take out my wrath upon you." He dug his face into his blonde hair and wept. "Thranduil will have to pay for this," he finally muttered.

"What?" Legolas asked surprised but Elrond had already gotten up. "Get dressed. Find Galion who should tend to you. Get a massage, get a hot bath, and get some rest. I will talk to your father."

"You will not talk to him," Legolas said and stood up quickly. He had lain so long that he felt dizzy and stumbled, so Elrond rushed to support him.

"I will talk to him like a Lord to a King, with respect. But he should not live out his outbursts on you, Legolas. Nor on any other elf. I will go to Rivendell for research after that, so he will have some time before I return and by then, his anger directed at me should have evaporated."

"I hope you are right," Legolas muttered sadly.

"Get Galion, or any other servant. Make them protect you," Elrond said and held his lover's cheeks in his hands to make him look at him. "I love you, Legolas," he said and smiled at him while his dark eyes showed century-old grief. He then bent forward and gave him a gentle kiss. Legolas' lips were so small and soft that Elrond was always afraid to apply too much pressure. This young elven prince should be handled with care and not abused and thrown away like an object.

When Elrond turned and left, rage returned on his face. All the anger towards Thranduil which he had never allowed himself to vent crawled to his head. He had no idea where the king might be at this time of the day when not sitting on his elevated throne and watching his minions work, so Elrond went to the king's chambers.

There was one guard standing outside, an ebony-haired woman who Elrond had seen elegantly playing the harp at the last party.

"You cannot enter," she said when he wanted to walk past her.

"I really don't care," Elrond said more briskly than he wanted to.

She sighed and added, "he is not in a good mood."

"That's why you should leave," Elrond said and raised his eyebrows. His authority as the Lord of Imladris was still worth something in these woods, so the she-elf turned and walked away. She definitely did not like standing guard when her king was having mood swings.

The steam coming from a room next door indicated that Thranduil must be taking a bath. Elrond was not surprised, after all he, too, had wanted to get the smell of the dungeons off his skin. Determined, he walked to the bathroom and found Thranduil, still wearing his braided hair-dress, leaning relaxed in the bathtub. He opened his eyes when he heard Elrond entering.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked and sat up, his own anger reflected in the Lord's face.

"What you did to Legolas," Elrond began to speak, anger sparking from his mouth like it had not done in decades, "was unjust and in appropriate." He rushed closer.

"I do with my son as I like. Now get out of here," Thranduil said and leaned back again.

Elrond could not contain himself any longer. He reached forward and grabbed Thranduil's braids to heave him up. Surprised, Thranduil gave in because of the pain on his head. Once he stood, he pushed Elrond's chest, but the half elf did not back away. He pulled him further towards himself and to avoid stumbling, Thranduil had to step out of the bathtub. He slipped and fell into Elrond's arms who held him close to avoid that the king could launch another attack against him.

Elrond sniffed the blonde hair. "Is that hobbit weed?" he thought to recognise the smell.

"Leave now, stupid half-elf, before I shall cast all you Ñoldor scum out of my protected realm," Thranduil screamed and pushed himself away from Elrond's chest.

Lord Elrond still held him by his hair and grabbed his arm. "How can you relax in a soothing bath and get high while your son is in aching pain because of your reckless, unnecessary actions?" he shouted. He very, very rarely lost his temper, but now was such a time. And seeing the mighty king helpless and stoned made him really want to take advantage of the situation. He knew he should not, and he knew that such action would make him no better than Thranduil himself. But he wanted to make him pay for the misuse of his fatherly relationship with his son. He needed it. He needed to dominate him and make the grand king of the woodland realm submissive to him.

He dragged the blonde elf, who was several inches higher than him, towards the bed.

"What do you think you are doing?" Thranduil's rough voice cut through the room. Elrond was glad he had sent the guard away. He searched the king's night table and found – among a lot of other things –

what he was looking for: leather strips. He gazed at the handsome, naked body of the Sindarin elf who stared back at him. His look was only half-off into the void, so Elrond knew that Thranduil was still conscious enough to protest. Therefore, the Peredhil acted very fast: He climbed onto the king and pressed his upper body down with his legs, binding his wrists under great toil to the bed posts.

Thranduil gave half-meant attempts to defend himself, but he had indulged too fondly into the inspiring herbs of the Western folk. When Elrond bound his legs, he was kicked several times into his stomach and knew that he would get bruises sooner or later. _Physician, heal thyself_, he thought and was surprised about his sense of dark humour in such a dangerous situation.

When Thranduil was restrained, he gave up kicking and screaming. "You don't have the guts to do what it takes," he hissed with a malicious smile. Elrond felt the urge to wipe it off his face. Before he could reason with himself, he climbed onto the king's muscular body and gave him a slap in the face.

Thranduil was surprised by the sudden anger outburst of the calmest and most balanced elf of all the middle continent. "Cut me lose," he demanded with all the authority he had.

"No," Elrond grinned and slapped him again.

Thranduil grimaced in pain, and only now did Elrond remember that he was hiding severe disfigurement under his left cheek. He touched and ungently fondled the cheek which Thranduil was ashamed off. "Show me your true self," Elrond said. He continued rubbing the skin. "Or I will slap it out of you."

"You wouldn't dare," Thranduil hissed, visibly angry, but unable to free himself. Another slap hit him so hard he forgot to breath for a second. He did not look back at the Lord as he tried to gather his thoughts. His cheek was burning and so was the anger in his eyes. Out of rage and defiance, he uncovered the disfigurement with a yell and showed the scars that he hid under the illusion of flawless skin.

"Are you happy now?" he asked aggressively.

Elrond took his hand away to look at it. He remembered trying to heal the burns while Thranduil had only wanted to shoo him away. He had been too proud and too arrogant to be helped. But Elrond could not help him in this. The injury had been too deep. And the sorrow and grief that had followed the battle with the dragon had impaired the healing. Elrond knew that Thranduil was most probably thinking of his wife now as well. He slapped him again to distract him of these thoughts.

"I did what you said, why did you slap me again?" Thranduil complained and his voice roared through the hall.

Elrond chuckled. "I don't care," he said and raised his eyebrows. He enjoyed seeing Thranduil helpless and he looked very much forward to what he was about to do now. Elrond stood up and began to undress.

"What are you going to do?" Thranduil asked, slight panic to be heard in his voice.

"I am punishing you," Elrond said. "When was the last time that someone was in you rather than you were in someone?"

"Yesterday. I am wide enough," Thranduil answered triumphantly. To be honest, he much preferred to penetrate someone himself, but to work on his own butthole, Galion was regularly allowed to widen it either himself or with toys. "You will not be able to punish me with that."

"We shall see about that," Elrond said. He was unsure whether he could get an erection with Thranduil lying so helplessly in front of him. When he had removed his clothes, he started rubbing his penis thinking of Thranduil in the dungeon. His many braids made him look rebellious, his lemon-scented skin was in such contrast to the musty smell in the deepest rooms, and his crimson dress had fitted so tight that Elrond did not know how he had resisted him back then. Whatever King Thranduil did, he did with such grace and charm. Now Elrond was about to take that all away from him.

With images of Thranduil crouching beneath the tortured wizard in his head, Elrond managed to get an erection. He spit into his hand and wetted his hardness. Then he grabbed a pillow and placed it under the king's pelvis.

"Elrond!" Thranduil said with a menacing sub-tone.

The wise elf climbed onto the bed between Thranduil's restrained legs. "You should relax, my king, or this will hurt you even more," he said with laughter in his voice. He bent forward and entered the king who threw his head back and opened his mouth in a silent scream. He was determined to not give the half-elf the satisfaction of begging for him to stop. Elrond pushed himself deeper inside. It was difficult as the butthole was not lubricated enough, and he knew that Thranduil must be in pain. He pulled out again. Thranduil looked at him in expectation. Elrond knew he wanted him to use more spit or oil.

Instead, he inserted his penis again without wetting it. Thranduil could not hold back and breathed deeply in and out. Elrond worked slowly in him, not to treat Thranduil with care but because he was unsure about such forced penetration. Then he saw again Legolas lying on the floor and his mind filled with rage again. Thranduil did not care. He did as he pleased. Before he knew it, Elrond's back and forth movement became faster. He took his hand to aid the entry into Thranduil's butthole which was becoming red. He spanked the cheeks from time to time. All of this resulted in more moans by Thranduil. He did not plead anymore, he simply took it all in. He absorbed the pain of his butt and his butthole, he endured the fast movements that he usually exerted on others.

Elrond, focused not only in thrusting faster and harder, found it – to his very surprise – not difficult to get further aroused. Maybe he had wanted to subdue Thranduil for a long time and use this as a payback for all the pain he had made his son endure.

The Peredhil grabbed Thranduil's penis, squeezed it hard and then began slapping it. When it had become all red, the king had also become aroused.

"You enjoy this, don't you?" Elrond slapped harder. "You enjoy this too much!" He did not stop slapping Thranduil's penis or working in him hard, and when Elrond felt close to release, he pulled out and crawled over Thranduil's body, rubbing his penis until he came all over the king's face. He then sat down on his pelvis and rubbed his behind over Thranduil's erect penis. Then he continued slapping it. He stopped when Thranduil sounded too aroused. He did not want to give the king relief.

"Now, how do you say it, 'let me wash this off your face'," Elrond imitated the king and started to pee onto his face. Thranduil squeezed his eyes together and looked to the side to avoid the stream. But Elrond kneed over his upper body and held Thranduil's chin with his hand to direct first his piss all over his face and then into his mouth until Thranduil gagged and spat out the liquid, but also drank amounts of it. When Elrond had no more liquid to spend, he spat straight onto Thranduil's face, then got up without a word, also leaving the king lying on his bed, helpless and sore, and he went to the bathroom to climb into the tub that Thranduil had earlier immersed himself in.

The water had a lemon flavour, and he spotted the hobbit pipe lying on the other side. Elrond quickly washed himself in the water that had by now gotten nearly cold. After having dried and clothed himself again, he turned to Thranduil who was looking at Elrond with an anger of surprise, disbelief, and wraith.

"I formally excuse myself and ride back to Imladris. I have to do research on the prophecy about the end of all days and I have the appropriate books only at my home dwelling. I shall return as soon as possible," he said in his official business-manner. Then he turned and walked away. He ignored Thranduil's yelling and shouts to bind him loose, but he cared no more.

He informed the head of the wood-elves guards of his endeavour and took his horse with food and care packs and rode off into the west, towards Imladris.

Thranduil lay helplessly bound to his bedpost until Galion came to check for him. By then, his boner had died, and his fury had apparently blown off. When Galion found him, he suspected the worst when he freed him from the leather straps. He thought he would be punished and mistreated, but instead Thranduil kept lying there, watching his butler bend over him.

"Who did this to you, my king?" Galion asked when he inspected Thranduil's arsehole.

"Lord Elrond."

Galion sighed. He had underestimated the half-elf. Galion knew that the Lord would be furious if he found out how Legolas was treated by his father, but he would have never thought that he would be able to take such actions. Before Galion could reply, however, he heard Thranduil add, "I actually liked it."

Galion thought he had misheard. "Excuse me, my king?"

Thranduil sprawled on the soaked bedsheets. "Elrond was all dominant and powerful. I was helpless but also unwilling to help myself. I enjoyed being in the submissive role."

Galion sat down on the edge of the bed. "Would you like us to explore this further?" he asked hesitantly. He was not sure whether Thranduil was ready to endure what he made others endure.

"Yes. But right now, I would like to bathe," he said and sat up.

"Of course, my king. I will prepare hot water for you immediately," Galion said and rushed off to the adjacent bathroom.

Thranduil regarded his red penis again. His butthole was hurting as if he were just deflowered. Slowly, he began rubbing his member. He used the piss with which he was covered and his spit until he was aroused again. It did not take long until he released on the bed sheet in front of him. He only needed to remember the fond memory of being helplessly subdued to Lord Elrond. He soon submersed himself in a hot bath and doze off with a smile on his face.


	13. The watchtower in Rivendell

Chapter 13

Lord Elrond had been riding for two days and a night when he arrived near Carrock. He could see an army of men and elves resting under a ledge. He rode towards them to ask for news.

"Where do you come from and where are you heading to with which purpose?" Lord Elrond asked when he came nearer.

A muscular, dark haired man stood up. "Many questions for a lone rider."

Before Elrond could respond, he recognised the only silver-haired elf among the Teleri as Círdan rose and spoke. "Do you have any idea who it is that you are speaking with? This is Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

"I beg you pardon," said the man and bowed.

Elrond gestured 'no need' with his hand.

"We are a joint army from Rohan and some of those who survived the attack on Lothlórien. An aggressive swarm of orcs have swept over our country from Mordor. We are keeping them at bay, and we are riding to prevent attacks from the north," the man explained.

"Mount Gundabad has sent its orcs into the forest," Elrond explained. "Aggression and evil have been on the rise for months and months."

"If we destroy the dwelling at Gundabad, they cannot produce new orcs there," Círdan explained.

Elrond nodded. "I shall wish you luck. We have found the reason of evil in Mirkwood. Two Istari wizards have turned against us. They are trying to do what Saruman failed to do decades ago. They serve Morgoth."

"Then what can we do?" the man asked.

"Destroy Mount Gundabad. Fight all evil that attacks you. I am riding back to Rivendell to find a way to save Middle-Earth. Once we know what to do, we will spread the word. Keep an eye out for a blue wizard. His name is Pallando and he is as mighty as Mithrandir."

They exchanged little other news about cities that had been attacked, that had been held or that had been lost. Then Elrond swung himself on his horse again and started the ride towards the Misty Mountains. The weather was kind and so he was able to take a mountain path that was the fastest to the city of Rivendell. It had lost most of its charm and since Arwen had left, he felt a great void. The leaves looked like an eternal autumn was upon them, and Elrond's mood was only lifted when he spied the blonde hair of his closest friend Glorfindel.

"What made you return so quickly? And alone?" he asked when he rushed downstairs to hug his Lord.

"I will tell you once inside. Gather my sons and Erestor. I tell you during dinner. And then I shall do research in my study," Lord Elrond responded.

While the cooks prepared dinner, he went to his private chambers which he had not seen in months. He got rid of his riding robes and was not prepared to see Glorfindel suddenly in his room.

"Have you forgotten how knocking works?" he asked.

"How's the king?" Glorfindel asked dryly. He and Thranduil had clashed in the past and that was the main reason why Elrond had trusted his blonde companion with Rivendell instead of working near the Elven-king.

Elrond swallowed hard and rested undressing for a brief moment. "He's fine," he decided to say. He could hardly tell what the king and he had done in the past week.

"And Legolas?" Glorfindel asked softer, ignoring Elrond's obvious hesitation to tell the whole truth.

"As handsome as always," Elrond responded, having removed his clothes and walked into the bathroom to wash himself quickly with a soaked cloth. He felt Glorfindel standing very close behind him. "I am with Legolas now, Glorfindel, and I love him. Besides, we need to talk about urgent matters."

"You've been riding here for days. The urgent matters can wait for another few minutes."

Elrond chuckled. "You think you need no more than a few minutes?"

"I know you like no other elf, not even Legolas knows how to make you come within a very short time."

"With Legolas I take my time. It is love that we make, Glorfindel."

"What we make is simple pleasure," Glorfindel said and grabbed Elrond at his waist to turn him to face him. "That's why you need not feel guilty about it."

Elrond sighed. Glorfindel wiped a strand of hair of his face that had become loose during the ride.

"You look tired," Glorfindel said.

"I have no time to rest." He sighed again and gave in. He leaned forward and pressed his lips on Glorfindel. The blonde elf took the offer and started to eat his mouth. At the same time, his hands glided over Elrond's naked body and found their way to his penis. With ease, Elrond's penis became erect and he pressed himself closer at Glorfindel's body. Glorfindel opened his robe and pulled down his trousers. He then started rubbing quickly Elrond's hardness and let him discharge into Glorfindel's underwear.

"See? Just a matter of minutes," Glorfindel said triumphantly and left Elrond to wash himself.

Less than half an hour later, Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel, and the twins were sitting in the dining hall of the main house and the Lord of Imladris explained what they had found out in the last few days in Mirkwood.

"It was foolish of you to ride here without guard," Erestor was the first to comment.

"I know. But I thought that alone I would most probably not be attacked. And I made very little rest," Elrond replied. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go to my study." He stood up and left his half-eaten dinner.

"He should rest more," Elladan said as soon as the doors fell shut.

"And eat more," Elrohir added.

"At least he has enough sex," Glorfindel commented.

It was two days later that Elladan and Elrohir sat still together after an afternoon chant. All the other elves had left by now and returned to their work. Elladan had just finished repairing a water wheel down the river and Elrohir dreaded returning to the carpentry shed because the she-elf working there had a crush on him.

"I am worried about adar," Elladan said. He stared out of the window and watched the elves walking by the paths that let down to the river.

"He's been in his study for two days now. He hardly sleeps. And if we didn't bring food and watch him eat, he would even forget that," Elrohir agreed.

They heard footsteps approaching and shortly later the door to the eating hall opened. A guard of the gate entered accompanying a rider of men.

"I bring news from the south," the woman said. She was dressed in men's riding gown and her blonde hair was neatly tied to her back. "Orcs that had been housing in the ruins of Tharbad left and another great flood has taken hold of anything near the river Greyflood."

"Gwathló is known for floods," Elrohir muttered.

"The flood came upstream," she explained.

Elrohir and Elladan looked at each other. They knew that magic must had been involved.

"This is the doing of Pallando, an Istari wizard turned against us," a powerful voice cut the silence.

Everyone turned around. Lord Elrond stood in the other door. He looked thinner, his skin was pale, and his eyes decorated dark circumorbital rings. His hair was tied back uncharacteristically, and his clothes were anything but elegant. He gestured everyone to sit down. Before he began talking, Glorfindel and Erestor came rushing into the hall. Either they had heard Elrond's voice, or they had seen the messenger arrive at the gates. In any way, they took chairs to the table and listened curiously.

"Many, many years ago, Manwë summoned a council of Valar and they decided to send five Maiar to Middle-Earth who would aid us in the fight against Sauron, servant of Morgoth. Among them those who we refer to as Gandalf, Saruman, and Radagast. Alatar and Pallando, the blue wizards, left to the East and were since then not seen. Like Saruman, they were converted by evil and are now serving Morgoth instead of helping us defend him. They want him to return from the Void where he was imprisoned after the War of Wrath many centuries ago."

"Assuming he can return from the Void through the Walls of Night, what can we do against him?" Erestor asked.

"We can hardly hold our cities against the orks that the two wizards have made so aggressive. How are we supposed to defeat Morgoth?," the woman added.

"According to the legend," Elrond continued, "the Valar gave us the Doom of Mandos, a prophecy, when the first elf killed another elf, an act that banned the Ñoldor from sailing to Aman for centuries. However, Mandos gave the Valar a second prophecy, and I quote, 'when the world is old and the Powers have grown weary, Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of the Night out of the Timeless Void; […] Then shall the Last Battle be gathered on the fields of Valinor.'" [History of Middle-Earth, The Lost Road and other writing, as quoted on .com, the One Ring Wiki, in the article of Dagor Dagorath, accessed 30/05/19]

"Could someone translate this for a woman who is not familiar with Elvish history?" the messenger asked. She, after all, had to over-bring the news and understand the follow-up questions.

"Morgoth will return and strike again," Elladan summarised what his father had just said.

"Eärendil, my father," Elrond continued with heavy heart, "is eternally sailing the sky with the Silmaril of his wife's ancestors. When Morgoth returns, so does he to join the final battle at Dagor Dagorath. The Vala Tulkas, the Maia Eönwë, and the man Túrin will help to kill Morgoth once and for all."

"Túrin, a man?" Glorfindel asked surprised.

"Túrin was among those men who came to Beleriand, which was later destroyed, in the first age. He was exiled when–"

"I don't think this is too important right now," Erestor interrupted.

"You are right," Elrond gathered himself. "Important is that we are before the Final Battle. It will take place in Aman, but we will most probably endure the consequences of its outcome here on our continent as well."

"So, what do you propose?" the woman asked. She wanted answers, she wanted something to do.

"We need to find Pallando, the second blue wizard. Only if we break his staff and stop him can we effectively fight the spiders and orks and bad things that fall upon our earth," Glorfindel said and looked to Elrond who nodded.

"Then I shall spread the word. Find the blue wizard and bring him to Rivendell." The woman stood up.

"To Thranduil's realm," Elrond corrected her. "It has become the strongest hold of Elvish armies and it is from there that we command our legions. Rivendell is where we farm and supply the other cities. It is well protected and has not been attacked… yet. Since the fall of Lothlórien and Mirkwood being under constant attack, Rivendell is the reason we still have the means to continue fighting. It is why we are still under such well defence." He leaned back.

The woman nodded and the guard of the gates led her out.

"If the battle takes place in Aman, we elves need to help. We have ignored the call of the Valar for too long already. We need to go to Aman and support our ancestors and the mightiest beings that Erú has created," Erestor said.

Elrond stared at him. He was lost in thoughts.

"We cannot just sit here and do nothing," Glorfindel added, surprisingly agreeing with Erestor.

"We are not even supposed to be here anymore," Lord Elrond muttered. "Our time is over. We should have gone to Aman ages ago."

"And now we go there," Elladan said,

"to fight," Elrohir finished his brother's sentence.

"We have hardly had any time since you have come," Glorfindel lamented while Elrond packed the parchments full of notes into a bag.

"We do not have time to lose during the war," Elrond said and blew out the candle on his desk.

"It is close to midnight. It would be foolish of you to ride out at night. The climb over the mountain is steep and the night as dark. The clouds are shielding the moonlight."

Elrond now did rest his movement. He turned to his trusted friend with a severe expression of grief on his face. "There is not moon."

Glorfindel let this sink in. The return of Morgoth must stand before. "Stay the night. Ride out with the first ray of sunlight – if there will be one." He put a hand on Elrond's hanging shoulders. Elrond touched it.

"Your hand is so warm," the Lord remarked and touched the blonde elf's face.

"I have always spent you warmth during cold nights, have I not?" Glorfindel said and stepped closer. His face was nearly touching his Lord's. "Let me spend you warmth and shelter tonight before you ride out again."

"Thranduil's soldiers need to come to Aman. We need every elf we can spare. Mirkwood is not in danger anymore since Alatar was captured. When Pallando is found, we can be sure that the Final Battle is refined to Aman. And we need every elf there," Elrond muttered and sighed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It was the first in a long time that he smelled again the raspberry scent of Glorfindel's hair. He remembered the many nights that their bodies lay entwined in sin. He remembered the moans of misdeed and the comfort of joined pleasure. It had been sexual satisfaction, but what he had with Legolas was true love. He had learnt the difference in the centuries he had spent acting upon his needs. He reached forwards and tenderly kissed Glorfindel's lips. "I ride out at the first light of dawn," he decided.

He allowed Glorfindel to pull him out of his study and together they climbed the watchtower of Rivendell. There was no one up here as there were enough guards patrolling the surroundings and the mountains. "I love being up here," Glorfindel explained. There was again this light in his eyes that Elrond so enjoyed seeing in him. It meant life. "From here, everything else looks small, meaningless. The only thing that counts is us." With that, the blonde elf opened the tails in Elrond's hair and began undressing him. For Elrond it felt like a dream. He had had so little sleep, so little to eat, he felt numb. But Glorfindel wanted to show him that his body was anything but numb. Soon, Elrond felt the cool breeze of the autumn night blowing against his bare skin.

He watched Glorfindel remove layer by layer of his clothes, robes falling to the ground, revealing the marvellous, muscular body of the blonde elf which shone in the light of the torches that were lit throughout the Elf-town. The absence of the moon worried Elrond, but the golden shimmer on Glorfindel's breast drove him mad with desire so that he could distract himself from the thoughts of doom and peril. He buried his head in his chest, Glorfindel lay his head on his, their hair colours mixing like paint. Elrond started to cry. "I fear, Glorfindel," he said.

Glorfindel placed his hands on Elrond's cheek and held his head towards his own.

"I fear for Legolas, I fear for my sons, I fear for the fate of those who travelled to Aman."

Glorfindel touched the tears rolling down Elrond's cheeks and tasted them. "Despair and sorrow do not suit you, my friend," he said and pressed his lips on Elrond's. Elrond, who was overwhelmed by his feelings, allowed it, he allowed Glorfindel to take them from him and to fill him with ecstasy and joy and pleasure. They explored each other's mouths which they already knew so well. Their bare chests were pressed against each other and the half-elf loved the heat of the other elf. His head was red, and his mind was high; that much he enjoyed forgetting his worries for a while.

Glorfindel widened him and while Elrond supported himself on the wall and had the view of his entire valley in front of him, his most trusted friend entered him deep. They moaned together as the wind blew, and Glorfindel worked hard in him. Elrond grabbed his manhood and rubbed himself until he had reached hardness in joy. He felt Glorfindel spread his love in him and then he turned to him. The blonde elf gave him a short kiss before he fell onto his knees in front of him. Elrond leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He needed not much of Glorfindel's soft touches before he found release in his mouth. He then sank down to the floor where the elf crawled next to him. They sat there for a while, breathing deeply, their heads resting against each other's. No word was spoken, and with the first ray of the sun, Elrond kept his promise, kissed Glorfindel good-bye, saddled his horse and rode towards his lover's realm to plead for an army to take to Aman.


	14. Return from Rivendell

Chapter 14

Legolas fell into Galion's arms. He was so surprised that he nearly dropped the king's son.

"Legolas, what is it?" he asked and heaved the elf to his own small quarters which was the nearest.

"I served my father," Legolas moaned in pain and sank down on Galion's simple bed.

Galion sighed and undressed Legolas to have a look at his injury. "Oh, Legolas," he sighed and began to wet a cloth with oil. Legolas moaned in pain when the cold liquid touched his wounds, but then he began to relax. He remembered how Elrond cared for him the last time that Thranduil had his rage fit. Elrond was always so endearing, so tender with him. That's why Legolas loved him so much. He trusted him like he trusted no other elf; with him he could feel vulnerable and helpless, and the wise Lord would never misuse such knowledge or his position.

"He is in Imladris," Galion noted. Legolas had not realised that he had spoken the name of his lover out loud.

"I miss him," he admitted.

"It is true love, is it not?" the servant asked. He massaged Legolas' butthole with marble on a string. It felt good and satisfying on his skin and the entry.

"I have had many relationships, but none has felt like this," the elf-prince answered with a smile on his face. "I have never felt so naked and so safe while it." He imagined Galion smile.

The butler removed the marbles and lubricated his slender fingers. He massaged the area between Legolas' scrotum and anus. It felt so good that Legolas could not help but moan. Galion repaired the damage that his father had done to him. The blonde elf closed his eyes and imagined how it would feel if his father was so affectionate to him. He lay his head aside and started to breath heavy. Galion had now entered his anus with his other hand and curled his fingers. He reached inside only a few centimetres. The marbles had already widened Legolas quite well. He gave a little shriek when Galion hurt him, and the butler pulled out his fingers immediately.

"I am sorry," he apologised and put more oil on his fingers. He then glided smoothly into Legolas' arsehole again. A few centimetres inside, he fondled the interior wall until he had found what he had been looking for.

"Oh no," Legolas cried in pleasure. Galion's other hand was still massaged the outside of where his prostate was, and now he also stimulated it from the inside. It was too much for the poor elf. He pressed his eyes together and clenched the bedclothes. "Don't stop," he begged even though he knew that the servant would not stop until he found release. Since Galion's two hands were already busy with exciting Legolas, the red-brown-haired woodland elf bent forward and began licking the prince's testicles.

Legolas rolled his eyes. He could not take more pleasure. His penis was well erect, and he was so close to coming. He bit his teeth together and was surprised about how long he could hold on when Galion's wet lips engulfed the glans of Legolas' penis. Legolas opened his mouth in a silent scream. He had never felt more aroused and more pleased. When Galion started to suckle and use his tongue to play with his sensible hardness, Legolas could not stall it any longer.

His blood pumping into his head, his face in grimace, he released the sticky, white semen into his butler's mouth. The orgasm came like a multitude of waves and when they were over, Legolas' whole body relaxed, and he fell into a deep sleep. Galion stood up and content with his work and put a blanket over the pale, peacefully sleeping elf. Then he left to see whether Thranduil had finished his bath.

* * *

Lord Elrond had travelled the uneven paths to Mirkwood so often in the last few months that even his horse knew the road by heart. Therefore, the half-elf could relax and sit back. However, he found that he could not enjoy the landscape, not only because the canopy of Mirkwood looked dismal and baleful from afar. Even the animals had retreated into the shadows and Elrond wondered where Radagast was these days and whether he was giving his beloved companions shelter from the terrors that had plagued the forest and that were still ravaging Middle-earth.

It took him two days to cross the mountain through a very new passage and reach the edge of the woods, and he only rested when the horse needed a break. He ate while riding, he drank while riding, and he only descended when he needed to relieve himself. The landscape changed and the forest grew higher the closer he came. At first, it was just the shadow that the trees drew, but as soon as he had entered the elf-path and passed the stone memorial of Thranduil's late wife, the sun seemed to have left nearly completely.

There was little light shining into the forest and when it had become night and there were neither stars nor the moon, he decided that it would be too dangerous to continue. He bound his horse to a tree and climbed it to be safe from whatever came out here at night. The orks and spiders had been defeated, but he did not know whether Pallando would soon notice his partner's absence and come looking for him. He bound himself around the trunk to prevent himself from falling down in his sleep. He dozed off, but he had weird dreams that he did not know to construe. He feared they were foreboding or visions, but there were no pictures or sounds that he could grip, and so he woke up several times bathed in sweat, but not remembering what it was that had shrieked him from his dreams.

He had no idea what time it was and when he could only remember that his dream had something to do with Legolas and death, he decided that he could not go back to sleep anymore. He untangled himself from the ropes and climbed down. He had no light, so he tapped forward with his hands, searching his horse. When he grabbed the rope which he had tied around the branch, he realised that it was hanging lose. It had been cut off! Had someone approached in the dark and made his horse run off? Why had he not heard anything?

The answer to this question came earlier to Lord Elrond than he would have liked: He stumbled over something that he thought to be roots when he found himself in a puddle of something slimy and very wet and nasty smelling. Horse blood! He rushed up and away from the dead body of his trusty companion. "Brego," he murmured sadly. The horse had belonged to his adopted son which had by now long passed. Suddenly, there was a wind breeze and the mighty Peredhil realised that someone was standing behind him.

All of sudden, there were light and voices. Elrond turned around and grabbed his sword, ready to attack. A shadow moved and disappeared. Then he heard the voices coming closer and becoming clear-cut. It was wood-elves and high-elves hunting the blue wizard! Elrond drew his sword and looked around. The torches of the elves illuminated the alley. He saw the shadow again moving into the direction he came from.

"Eastwards," he shouted and heard elves' light footsteps approaching. The first figures appeared in front of the trees. "He ran eastwards," Lord Elrond repeated and led the company to where he suspected the wizard. He recognised Lindir popping up next to him.

"There again!" another elf shouted. They now saw a blue hat between the epiphytes and bushes. The first arrows whizzed by his head. Then the blue hat fell. Elrond and Lindir rushed towards the position and saw the old man jumping back onto his feet. He reminded him of Saruman, but his beard was longer and he wore a grey robe under his blue coat. Pallando grabbed his staff and muttered words in the darkest speech of these lands. He tapped his staff onto the ground and suddenly a crack appeared in the forest floor. It expanded and soon ran through roots and grass and moss.

"Back," Elrond shouted, and they all stumbled backwards, watching how a giant cleft grew in the middle of the forest. He jumped over the fissure before it grew too wide. Another arrow whirred past him and bored itself into the wizard's staff. They both looked to its origin and the Peredhil spotted his love Legolas in the tree, unerring as always.

Elrond used this moment and jumped forward. His sword clashed against the wizard's staff and they lost both their weapons. Pallando grabbed Elrond at his shoulders and pushed him back, but surprisingly, Elrond was not as weak as he had suspected. They both stumbled and fought, too near to the cliff.

"Elrond!" Legolas screamed, realising the danger. But it was too late. The wizard had reached Elrond's sword and stabbed him right into the chest. Elrond gulped, his eyes widened and backwards he stumbled and fell into the cleft in the ground.

"Elrond!" Legolas shouted again and jumped off the tree he had been hiding in. He ran towards the cleft but was held back by Lindir.

"He's gone," the high elf muttered, himself in disbelief.

Legolas shouted and screamed and sank to his knees. The blue wizard picked up his staff again and hurried away into the direction of the Misty Mountains.


	15. Back in Mirkwood

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**_Sex must always be consensual. And safe._**

**Content warning: sex, a bit of violence, sadness.**

* * *

Chapter 15

The depressing thing was the silence. No elf uttered a single word on their way back to Thranduil's palace. Lindir hung his head and did not dare to look at anyone. His feelings were mixed: pure sadness and grief for the loss of his mentor, and fear because he used to lead the elves when Lord Elrond had not been at hand. Neither Erestor nor Glorfindel were here in Mirkwood and he felt not up to guiding anyone or attending war councils as more than just a witness.

He had not noticed how much his limbs trembled with every step. He suddenly felt an embrace and his head was pressed against a chest he knew very well. It was Galion who had, together with the other remaining elves, come to the gate to welcome back the troops. They had realised very quickly that something must have happened when the returning elves had been nothing more than a funeral march looking company. Lindir closed his eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of meadowsweet. Galion closed his arms around him and Imladris elf felt sheltered from the outside world and the expectations that he would soon face.

Then the murmurs began. "Elrond," someone said. "Elrond," they whispered. Upon hearing his name, Lindir weeped silently. Galion tightened his grip on him. Lindir did not remember how he made it to lie down, but suddenly he found himself in Galion's bed, being stripped of his clothes. He could hardly keep his eyes open; he felt like in a dream, a bad dream. He heard someone else entering the room.

Galion looked up. Two other wood-elf servants carried Legolas into his room. They were puzzled at the sight of Lindir in the butler's bed.

"We did not want to let his father solace him," the she-elf servant explained.

Galion nodded understandably. He helped them heave the elf-prince onto the bed as well.

Legolas was as silent as Lindir, both their eyes were half-closed, staring into nowhere. The blonde elf's cheeks were wet with tears that did not stop running down and dropping onto the pillow.

Galion sighed at the view of the two grieving elves. The other servants had left again and now he was faced with the difficult task of looking after the two elves who were drowning in sorrow. He started with removing Legolas' clothes as well. The elf did not protest, he did hardly do anything.

He turned both elves onto their bellies. Lindir's and Legolas' hands touched, and they looked at each other. Their visions were blurry because of the tears and without saying a word, they understood each other. They closed their eyes again and held hands.

Galion got some oil. He wanted them to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel satisfied. One of the servants who had brought Legolas in returned with a harp. Galion nodded to him silently, and he sat down in the chair at the desk and started playing a slow and meaningful piece. It had been written centuries ago, about loss and sacrifice, about love and grief.

Galion grabbed a flask with woodland herbs that had been harvested before the forest had gone bad. He mixed the dried plants with a special honey-oil in a bowel and dripped the liquid onto the grieving elves' behinds. He then massaged the specially scented oil over their cheeks, devoting his right hand to Lindir and his left to Legolas, being equally skilled in them both. They gave silent moans and sounds of whimpering at times, but they also inhaled the odour and it calmed them.

Galion opened his night table drawer and grabbed a glass toy that the glassblower of the elves had manufactured only for him. It was shaped like several round marbles connected on a string, but thicker. It had no sharp edges and its design was flowing like the streams in the palace. He massaged at first Legolas' butt cheeks with it before he gently pushed it into Legolas butthole. It was still red from his father's treatment, but now it was not hurtful, only pleasing to him. Legolas sighed deeply, breathing out which ended in a silent whimper. Another tear ran over his face and dropped onto the white sheets.

The work that Galion performed in him was smooth and gentle and felt good. After a while, Legolas felt like being sheltered in cushions and disconnected from the world. He closed his eyes and smiled. Then Galion proceeded to do the same with Lindir until the Imladris-elf also showed a weak smile and his breathing had calmed. Soon, both elves were well asleep, their chests heaving and lowering in harmony.

The servant elf stopped the play of the harp and Galion went outside to wash his hands and the bowel in the small branch of the stream that went through the middle of the hallway. The elves used it to wash their hands or to relieve themselves at nights. The bigger streams were used for washing clothes or themselves.

When Galion returned, the harp player was covering the two elves with a blanket. Galion smiled at the sight of them having drifted into the dreamworld and hoped that they would not be tormented with their memories. The servant turned to him and placed a hand on his cheek.

"I am fine," Galion muttered silently.

"You like caring for them," the servant recognised and touched Galion between his legs with the other hand.

Galion looked down and realised he had an erection. He chuckled silently. The servant went on his knees and gently opened his trousers and underwear and pulled them down. Galion leaned against the wooden wall and closed his eyes. It had been a decade since this servant and he had stolen away one night during a feast and, instead of serving the lords and stewards, given each other pleasures in the dark forest. But the servant seemed not to have forgotten what it needed to make Galion aroused and he skilfully licked the glans and sucked from time to time. Galion moaned silently; he did not want to waken the sleeping elves. He finally found release in the servant's mouth. He stood up and kissed Galion quickly.

"You care so much for everyone, sometimes you need to be cared for as well," he whispered, took the harp and left. Galion, pleased, pulled up his trousers and went to help the cook elves prepare the evening meal for the soldiers.

Dinner was as silent as the return. Even King Thranduil preferred to dine in silence. There was no music which accompanied the meal tonight, and afterwards, the elves went about their business without any chattering. No one stayed for drinking or games as usual. Everyone felt the loss of Lord Elrond. Even though he and the elven-King had had their open differences, the half-elf had been the wisest and most loyal elf in all of Middle-earth. A messenger had been sent to Imladris, followed by a small troop of archers. The blue wizard was on his way to the mountains and they did not know whether his path through or above the mountains would lead him close to the elven town.

Another messenger had been sent on his way to the Hobbit-lands, but everything from Weathertop over The Shire to the White Downs west of Hobbiton would be an easy victory for orks or were-worms or spiders. They also sent some elves to tell the dwarves of the Blue Mountains to send soldiers to Hobbiton and Bree, but as they were elves telling the dwarves what to do, they were sure to meet deaf ears. Luckily, some men had mingled under the elvish riders along the way and eased the path to negotiations. So it came to be that a dwarf army marched into Hobbiton one early winter's eve.

The Hobbits had not seen or wanted company from dwarves for many times, but they were also not the kind of people to tell them so into their faces. So most of them just looked out of their windows and watched as the inhabitants of the Blue Mountains who were little taller than themselves positioned themselves all around the meeting halls and official buildings. Some Hobbits who called themselves important came out and the dwarves explained their business. As they were here for protection and the hobbits themselves knew they could not protect themselves, they thanked the dwarves, gave them food, and then went back into their houses.

In Mirkwood it had become quiet and the spiders were not seen anymore, so King Thranduil started sending his men to help the rest of Arda. He had a hard time holding Legolas back who wanted to fight and even put him into the dungeons one night.

"You don't understand, Ada!" he shouted through the bars.

"I do," hissed his father, and then kindly added, "I felt the same when your mother died." That shut up Legolas and made him think. "I was so angry… all I wanted to do was kill. Kill orcs, kill spiders,… even though it was a dragon that had killed her. I did not care. And I don't want you to become like me." With that, he left and let Legolas think about his words over the night. The next morning, Legolas was awoken by Galion pressing his lips onto his own. He had had a rough night of sleep and simply wanted to continue.

"Get up, dear prince. The dungeons are no place for you to sleep," Galion said and lifted him up.

In the dining hall, Legolas met his father having breakfast. Lindir and the current King of Gondor sat by his side. They were talking about the sighting of were-worms near Tharbad.

"I would like to make myself useful," Legolas said when he approached them.

"You can help Cwingand prepare the weapons. Our fifth troop is leaving this afternoon to Bree," King Thranduil explained when suddenly a blonde elf rushed through the doors.

He stopped next to Legolas and was accompanied by two elf-guards who had not managed to keep pace with him. "We need your help, King Thranduil," Glorfindel explained and bowed just enough to please the king.

As no one replied, Glorfindel continued, "just before… just before Lord Elrond had left, he had found out that an attack by Morgoth is imminent."

"Where is this attack going to take place?" Lindir asked and stood up. No one had spoken Elrond's name in days and the sound of it sent shivers down his spine. His stomach turned upside down and he felt ill immediately. His appetite was gone, his head felt dizzy, he nearly had the urge to vomit, his feelings played roulette and his mind began rushing him through memories and thoughts.

He remembered when he had first time spend more than just a few words and niceties with Lord Elrond and suddenly he had found himself incapable of eating. He had worked through a night with nothing but adrenaline and the wake-inducing effects of black tea. He had not understood at first what was happening to him until he had asked Galion for advice. It had been clear to the butler after a few minutes of talking that Legolas had fallen in love.

"Is it like catching a cold?" Legolas had asked, unsure of his feelings. He had never had such feelings before, and he could neither name nor interpret them. "Like, I caught a cold and it will make me weird for a few days and then I will return to normal."

"I'm afraid it isn't as easy as this," Galion had answered.

Before, Legolas had always thought he would crush on other elves who he required sexually. But with Elrond he had not even thought about sex – at first. It was just his touch that he felt even days later, his hands that he could still imagine gliding over his back and arms. He could not even know how to put it into words what he felt or imagined. There was just this boost of emotions, this drive to not eat but still be awake and able to do things. Even though his mind often drifted back to the Lord.

"Aman," the blonde Lord answered, and Legolas was once again pulled out of his dreams.

Glorfindel saw the shocked faces of the Moriquendi, the elves who had refused to go to the Undying Lands or who had not been ready at the time of the Valar's last call.

"If we go there, we will not come back, one way or the other," Lindir said. His eyes were fearful and Glorfindel felt sorry for him. He had not been prepared to negotiate with Thranduil as representative of Imladris, and he must have had a hard last few days.

"If we don't go, there would not even be a Middle-earth to return to," Glorfindel said. He then grabbed a chair and sat down with the three commanders to explain to them what Elrond had researched. Legolas kept standing but listened attentively.

After Glorfindel had finished his story, no one said a word. They all needed time to think.

"We need the second wizard," Lindir said finally.

Glorfindel wanted to reply when suddenly a she-elf burst into the halls. "There was red light in the sky. It looked as if shattering the sky itself and it came down many miles into the west, behind the mountains," she reported.

"It won't be Morgoth himself, will it?" Legolas asked fearfully. It scared him even more that no one answered him.

King Thranduil stood up. "We send everyone west. A skeleton army remains here. We send word to every intelligent being on this continent. The battle of all battles has begun. We have to engage Morgoth." The she-elf nodded. Together with the two guards at the door, they hurried to the horn of the army. It was blown less than a few minutes later: It meant that every able person within Thranduil's realm was to prepare for war.

Legolas trembled on his whole body when he lay on his armour. His father came into his room, something he very rarely did.

"Before we leave, Legolas, we have to talk," he said calmly and put his hand onto Legolas' shoulder so that he would stop clothing himself. He hesitated and then indeed put his mithril shirt down.

"I haven't always been a good father, I know that," the Elven-king began. "I let out my wrath too often on you and I have treated you unfairly more than once. I was shocked when it was that half-elf who you fell in love with, and even more shocked when I realised that those feelings were real. I allowed it at first because I thought Elrond would be playing with you. But he was not. And I know what you are going through right now. I know that you will not care for anything when we engage the enemy. The only feeling you have is anger and your only goal is revenge."

Legolas sighed. His adar knew him too well.

"I was there. I know what it feels like. But there are still so many things to live for. Do not get yourself killed," Thranduil concluded his speech.

Legolas turned around and saw something he had never seen in his father's eyes: a tear. Silently, he wiped it away. Then he leaned his head against his father's chest. Thranduil hugged Legolas and the embrace felt so good. Legolas felt like a little elf-boy again, sheltered and cared for by his father.


	16. The dungeons II

**Content warning: VIOLENCE, torture.**

**Also, I mixed up the names Pallando and Alatar. I think I have corrected it, but if you find mistakes, please tell me. The wizard being tortured is Alatar and the one that killed Elrond was Pallando.**

* * *

Chapter 16

Thranduil returned to his private quarters where Galion was already waiting for him.

"You stay here as master of the servants," Thranduil told him while he put down the elegant robes that he had been wearing. Galion had lain out his white armour for the ride and battle. It would be a long ride, so the cooks were busy preparing Lembas bread and other nutrient rich foodstuffs for the way.

"All the guards will be riding with us," Thranduil muttered while undoing his belt.

"I will look after the place until you return," Galion said and tried to hide that his voice was shaking. It was futile.

Thranduil put a hand onto his butler's shoulder. "I will return. I do not intend to stay in Aman if we get there. Not just yet, at least."

"Their last call was when the time of the elves was over and the fourth age began," Galion reminded him.

"When the destruction of the ring had failed, we hardly had any choice but to stay and fight."

"The ring is destroyed now."

"Yes, and men, dwarves, and elves paid the price for that it was so late. Men are not ready yet. There are still many dangers in these lands and with the new peril we face, we cannot sail."

"When you defeat Morgoth, you can. You can stay."

Thranduil placed his forehead against Galion's. The butler had to look up to him as Thranduil was much taller. "I will return, Galion," he whispered. He gave him a long, dry kiss. "Since the death of my wife and the passing of Celebrimbor and Amroth centuries ago, I have not had any meaningful relationships. You are the only elf that still gives me pleasures like they did."

"I serve you like I served your father and like a serve your son."

"You are the most loyal elf in all of Mirkwood. That is why you remain here in charge and if I do intend to stay West, I will make sure that we will be united there," Thranduil promised and kissed Galion again. "Because I do not want to lose such a trustful servant," he added, and his kisses were now aimed at Galion's cheeks and neck. The butler understood the hint and started to remove his clothes. When they both stood naked, Galion also started kissing Thranduil's prominent cheek, his chin, his neck and licked and kissed his nipples. He spent a long time petting his chest and worked on his king's penis with his hands in the meantime.

Thranduil, who was much taller and more muscular than him, picked him up with ease and carried him towards his bed. There, he placed him down sideward and, to his surprise, started licking and spitting on his penis.

"It is a shame we have had no time yet to work on you being submissive," Galion noted.

"We will have time, Galion. I want to experience it. This alone would already be a reason for me to return."

"There are other elves in Aman who could do that with you."

"None of them knows my body like you do. None of them I trust like I trust you," Thranduil said and took Galion's cock and testicles into his mouth. He was very well trained and did so with ease. Then, he grabbed the bottle of oil from his night table which was nearly empty.

"I shall have it filled up at your return, my king," Galion said, embarrassed that he had not done so already.

Thranduil did not reply but massaged the lubricant onto his butler's penis and into his own arsehole which he entered with his fingers. Then he crawled over Galion's body which looked tiny in comparison to him. He then took Galion's penis and gently inserted it into his arsehole. It was quite difficult, and he applied more oil. He sat down slowly and moaned in pleasure. He still needed the help of his hands to keep it inside, but it became easier once both his butthole and Galion's penis were used to the movement.

Thranduil pushed himself up and lowered himself again, rocking gently. He kept a steady pace then, leaning forward and kissing Galion. The butler was not very used to this tender behaviour of his king, but he welcomed it. He enjoyed the dominant and careful Thranduil all the same. If he wanted to spend some romantic time, however, he tended to see Lindir with whom he had established a sort of relationship in which they cared for each other and talked about their sorrows regarding the war and the daily losses. And Elrond. Galion pushed that thought away. He did not want to think about the half-elf now. He concentrated on his penis again that was stiff and in use. Thranduil rubbed his own cock in harmony with his movements. Galion felt heated pleasure when Thranduil bent forward and started kissing his face. When he came, his head was glowing red. He was so satisfied, he just lay there, watching Thranduil spread his juicy semen over his belly where it cooled his skin. Thranduil got up and dressed. Galion loved seeing him in the white armour that he had last time worn when denying the greedy dwarves help during the dragon attack that they had brought upon themselves.

Galion watched the elves ride away. It took him time to realise how silent the realm had become. Every able-bodied elf and she-elf had set out. Only a few cooks, gardeners, and weavers were left behind. Either because they were quite young and lacked training or because injuries from previous battles prevented them from fighting in one again.

If anyone wanted to attack them now, they would have the time of their lives. Galion chuckled sarcastically at that joke and returned inside the halls. He closed the big doors himself. It would be two days until he expected the messenger from the Iron Hills to return – either with the good news that the dwarves would join the fight or the bad news that they had invented new insults for the elves.

Lindir was waiting for Galion in the dining hall. It looked as if all life had left it which was unfortunately true. And so looked he, which was fortunately not true. Lindir had been told to remain behind as representative of the Rivendell elves. Rivendell would soon also be deserted as the elves were all going to war. The dark brown-haired elf wiped a tear away as Galion neared.

"I wish I could have gone with them. I feel useless," he admitted.

"They trust you so much that if they all fail, you are the head of Imladris."

"Which will be irrelevant if Imladris is destroyed."

Galion stepped forward and hugged the fragile elf. "Come now," he finally said. "We have a task to fulfil."

Together, they climbed down into the lowest levels of Thranduil's realm and into the dungeons. The only prisoner still left was Alatar, the blue Istari wizard. Galion opened the heavy prison door and put the torch into the holder at the wall. It was the only light source and the first time in days that Alatar had seen light. His body was saggy, he had not been getting any food. His wounds were not bleeding anymore, but his legs had been reduced to a lump of flesh and crushed bones. His arms were pale as the blood did not circulate through them anymore. He, himself, had entered a state of dreams and hallucination. A simple man would not have survived all this.

Galion took a chair to reach the ceiling and loosened the chains around the wizard's wrists. He sacked down onto the floor with a dumb sound. Lindir stood silently and watched. He detested torture, and he knew that Elrond would oppose such means under normal circumstances as well. The instruments at the other side of the room made him think that they had lowered themselves to no better than dwarves.

Galion returned to Lindir and touched his hands. He bent forward and whispered into his ear, "desperate times require desperate measures." Lindir was surprised that Galion could read him so well and he nodded hesitantly. "Let's get this over with," Galion added and gave him a quick kiss. Then he turned and bent down to the wizard. He grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. Alatar was breathing heavily, his head was whirring, and he could barely see. All he could make out was the silhouette of an elf.

"We have found your companion Pallando," Galion lied. "He did not surrender, so our king slayed him."

Alatar did not answer. Apparently, he believed their story. "Morgoth will return," he answered with great toil.

"He already has," Galion informed him.

A wide smile appeared on the wizard's face. "Then your days are numbered."

"All of Middle-earth is riding to face him. Morgoth will fail just like you, Pallando – and Saruman."

"Saruman?"

"Oh, you did not know? He also turned against us and he also died," Galion hissed.

Lindir stood beside him and tried to hide his trembling. He had never seen this side of Galion. He had been so tender with him and now he looked so evil and willing to do anything to get information out of this wizard. He was shocked, but at the same time he cursed himself for falling for Galion so easily. He was a wood-elf after all. They were more aggressive and less wise than the Ñoldorin elves, and their traditions and time-passing were less evolved. He sighed. There was still something about Galion that triggered him, something that made his stomach turn whenever his brown eyes looked right through him.

"Morgoth will wipe you all out," Alatar hissed.

Galion had not seen such hatred in an Istari before. The days without rest and light and food must have gotten to him. Or his journey to the East had changed him and made him forgot the ways of the Maiar.

"You want to know our plans, but I will rather die," the wizard added in toil.

Galion stood up and walked over to the table where the torture instruments lay out. He regarded the many devices for a long time and then picked up something that looked like a pear on a stick. It was made out of metal and actually called a 'choke pear'. The stick had a mechanism that could be turned, and the pear pieces would spread outside. He turned around and held it near the light so that the wizard could see the device.

"The pear of anguish," Galion explained, "is put into the mouth and then turned to expand. It prevents one from speaking and it stretches the mouth until you are unable to speak. However, as we still need you to speak, I will not insert it into your mouth."

He walked to the wizard who was still lying naked on the floor. His legs were crushed, and his fingers were broken. There was no way he could defend himself.

"Lindir, would you mind holding the torch nearer," Galion asked for light. The dark brown-haired elf did as he was told. The pear shimmered in the golden light.

"Please," Alatar whispered finally. "I just want to return to a shapeless form. I want to regain my powers and I want to leave Arda again. This world stinks of humans and dwarves and I am tired of the elves and their beauty."

Galion listened but also prepared the metal pear. Without warning the Istari wizard, he pushed it inside the dry arsehole. The wizard screamed in pain and Galion had to grab his waist and use all his power to force the instrument inside. He waited until Alatar had caught himself and his shouts returned to a silent whimpering.

"Morgoth descends near the Weatherhills once Pallando has killed Tilion, the guardian of the moon. Through the Door of Night, he can return."

"What is his plan then? Why return at the Weatherhills?"

As Alatar did not answer immediately, Galion started turning the screw which expanded the pieces of the pear. The Maia shouted in pain and hatred, but after a while, he continued, "Morgoth can only return in Middle-earth for that Aman is too heavily fortified. He will then destroy the land of the halflings to show the other inhabitants what they are in for. Once that fear has ripped through every living soul, he sails to Aman for vengeance on the Valar who exiled him. Armies that obeyed Sauron and armies that obey the darkness will follow him. He has hidden a ship that can carry every orc or goblin, every spider, every disciple of evil over the Great Sea. Once Aman is burning, the rest of Middle-earth will fall in no time." He spat out every word with as much hatred as he was capable to. Galion expanded the pear further. Blood was dropping out of his hole and dripping onto the stone floor.

"I have told you everything I know," Alatar shouted.

"No, you haven't." It was Lindir who spoke this time. He did a very good job in hiding his contempt regarding everything that was happening down here. It was the loss of Elrond that now drove him. "You know what Morgoth plans and where. How did you communicate with him as he was a prisoner of the void?"

"Was?" Alatar laughed. "You mean he has indeed returned already." He continued laughing even louder but it soon turned into screams as Galion turned the pear to its maximal spread. The wizard's mortal body was covered in blood, his butt cheeks splashed blood into every direction.

"With the healing powers of the elves, we can make your body last for a very long time. Your spirit will never be free," Galion threatened him.

Alatar gagged and yelled. "There are rifts in the Ekkaia. Things very small can pass from the void into our world and the other way round."

"What things?"

"Crabain."

"They used birds to send messages," Lindir explained.

"Birds cannot fly that high," Galion said.

"I bewitched them. I made them strong. I made them small."

Galion stood up. That was what he had wanted to hear. He looked towards the open doorframe in which a shadow appeared. It was an elven messenger.

"I will over-bring the news," he said and disappeared to ride after the Thranduil's army.

"He was standing there the whole time," Galion explained to Lindir who had looked confused. "I have found everything out that King Thranduil wanted to know," he said to the wizard. "You are no longer of use for us." He took the pear out and a flush of blood emptied onto the floor. Lindir and Galion went to the underground river that was in an adjacent cell and the woodland butler washed the pear. They returned to the wizard's cell to put the torture device back into its place.

Galion then drew his sword and quickly put an end to the mortal shell of Alatar. "King's orders," he explained when he left the dungeons with Lindir who was in a bit of a shock. When they climbed up to the king's halls, Galion put his arm around Lindir.

"I am not proud of what I have done," Galion told him.

"I have been through war and I have done many things as well. But I have never inflicted pain on a sentient being on purpose," Lindir replied. The halls were empty and there was no one who could have seen how Lindir began to cry.

"We've had peace for so long."

"There was never peace," Galion said and wiped the tear from his cheek. "Just no war."

Lindir fell into a hug with Galion. Galion smiled and leaned his head against the Imladris steward's. He held his hands tight against his back. "Soon, there will be peace," he added.


	17. The Halls of Mandos

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**Content warning: anal sex, oral sex, incest, violence.  
**

**Update: Elrond is of course Celebrían's husband, not her wife^^**

* * *

Chapter 17

When Elrond opened his eyes, he thought he was still falling in the bottomless pit that Pallando had opened up. But he found that there was no air sweeping past him and that he was lying on cold stone. He touched his chest. There was no hole and no blood. He looked down and realised that he was wearing a light brown gown without any sign of his injury.

It was dark, but his eyes were getting used to the lack of light. Slowly, he gathered that he was in a cave, even though the floor was too even to be natural. The ceiling shimmered blue and bore crystals that he had never seen before. There were stalagnates, stalactites and stalagmites. The hall seemed endless as he could not see the walls in the mist that hovered over the ground in the far.

Elrond turned around. He walked into the direction of where the cave ceiling was getting lower. He came into another area which was still part of the hall. As he came closer to the walls, he realised that they were not shimmering dark blue like the ceiling, but in fact, they were covered with tapestries. Elrond regarded them for a while and followed them along the walls. Something struck him as familiar and he walked a few steps back. He saw a woven representation of a huge battle, many elves and men facing orcs and a dark creature that he knew too well. It was Sauron, unmistakably, wearing the one ring and wielding his mighty sword.

"The War of the Last Alliance," Elrond muttered and touched the texture with his hands.

"I thought you might recognise it," a voice behind him said and he turned around in shock. The shock quickly flew away as he saw a woman with white-grey hair in a mauve dress. "I took time for every one of the soldiers to be represented with high accuracy."

"You wove those?" Elrond asked and pointed at the tapestries.

The woman nodded. "I am Vairë, I keep track of history and weave it."

"Where am I?" Elrond asked.

"Don't you know?" Vairë, a Vala said.

"I died," Elrond replied. She nodded. "This is not me," he deduced and looked down on his body. "I am but my spirit. I am dead, and I have been brought to the Halls of Mandos." He looked around. It was indeed like Glorfindel had described it to him. But now he understood why his best friend had said that he needed to 'experience to understand'.

"Are you ready to face Námo who will judge you, Elrond Peredhil?"

He nodded even though he was anything but ready. This was not how he had imagined the afterlife to be. She guided the way around columns and down and up staircases until they came before a stone-throne on which a hooded figure sat. The man stood up and was several inches higher than Elrond when he descended from his elevated throne. Námo removed his hood and his age-less face stared at Elrond for a long time. Vairë silently left and returned to her weaving loom to weave the departure of the elves from Mirkwood.

"Elrond Eärendilion Peredhil, brother to Elros, husband to Celebrían. Welcome to the Halls of Mandos," Námo said and opened his arms wide to show off the vastness of his realm. "I have met your brother Elros many centuries ago, but time does not matter here." He lay his hand on Elrond's cheek as if to feel something. He closed his eyes and concentrated. "You from now on reside in the Halls of Awaiting, you must cleanse yourself from earthly burden and bath in the lake of self-reflection before your further fate can be decided."

"Further abidance?" Elrond did not understand. This was the end. He was dead.

"Your journey in Middle-earth is not over. Your story has pages left that cannot remain unwritten. But I will need time," Mandos said and put his hood back on. "I will need time," he repeated and climbed back onto his throne.

Elrond left the way he had come, confused by the riddles in which the Valar had spoken. He found the hall again where he had awoken. There was a cliff and in front of him was a sea of stalagmites and fog covering the ground.

"It is a beautiful view, isn't it?" he heard a voice behind him. "Just like the sea that we were supposed to sail." Elrond recognised the voice that he had not heard in centuries. His body started the shake and he felt plunged into a dream. Tears filled his eyes and he lost his sense for reality. When he turned around, his former lover Gil-Galad looked exactly like he did in his memory: tall, handsome, his eyes stern and focused. He was wearing the armour of the last war, but it was clean, and he was also without a scratch.

"I have followed your story," Gil-Galad explained and pointed to the tapestry in the far. "I am very proud of you and I am very glad that you have found someone. Legolas Thranduilion seems to be a worthy recipient of your love."

"Shut up," Elrond muttered. A tear was running down his cheek and he began to laugh. "Shut up," he added and stumbled forward and into the Ñoldorin's arms. Gil-Galad smiled contently and wrapped his hands around the half-elf.

"I have missed you, Elrond. But I have always hoped to never see you here," he said and nestled his head against his lover's.

Elrond could not help but cry tears of joy. He was incapable of expressing in words how much he had missed his first big love. All the feelings and memories came back to him at once. All the nights and mornings that they had spent together. His knees felt wobbly and he sank down.

Gil-Galad's smile grew bigger as he went down with Elrond. "I am glad to see that you have not simply forgotten and replaced me."

"Never," Elrond wept. He had always borne such great sorrow, and his life was formed by grief and loss, and he had had his moments of weakness that he had allowed himself, but he had always needed to show strength as a leader to his people and as a father to his children. But right now, no one was here to witness the great Half-Elven Lord to burrow his head into Gil-Galad's shoulder and to cry him a river that would make Baranduin look small. He began to remove the elf's armour layer by layer until he was standing there with only a lose gown and riding trousers. Elrond hugged him again and dug his fingernails deep into the woven fabric. He needed to feel Gil-Galad's body and pressed him towards himself. Gil-Galad enjoyed the closeness he had not felt with his lover in centuries and tightened his grip on his back.

"I missed you," Elrond said. "Even with Celebrían and Legolas, I still valued our time together. I never forgot you. I never forgot what we had." His voice became drowned in sobbing.

Gil-Galad lifted his head and looked into the half-elf's old, wise, brown, watery eyes. He used his thumb to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Elrond laughed briefly, overfilled with joy.

"I missed you, too," Gil-Galad said and kissed him gently. Elrond's mouth was dry and Gil-Galad's lips were so very soft. "But I saw you, every day. And I love seeing you." Gil-Galad nodded to the tapestry again. He glided his hand through Elrond's open hair. They stared into each other's eyes without saying anything. The lovers kept silence for a long time until Elrond finally hung his head. Gil-Galad kissed the front of his head and slowly began to remove Elrond's dress which dropped to the floor. He then proceeded to take off his own shirt and trousers until it lay next to his metal armour. In the end, they both stood there naked. Elrond had not seen his lover bare for centuries and the long time of dreaming had blurred his memories. In person, Gil-Galad looked more handsome than he had remembered. He laughed in joy and put his hands onto the elf's chest. He began to glide them all over his hairless body; he wanted to feel his skin, his liveliness.

He bent forward and started kissing his nipples. Gil-Galad took his chin into his hand and held his face up. He pressed his lips onto the half-elf's and pushed him down onto the floor. Elrond gathered their clothings together to lie on, because the ground was nothing but hard rock. Gil-Galad turned him onto his side and began nibbling at his penis. After the first groans, he abandoned Elrond's hardness and dug his head in between Elrond's butt cheeks. He began licking and pushed the cheeks aside with his hands to ease the gentle fondling of his mouth. He spat onto the hole and entered his tongue as deep as it could. With more spit, he entered his first finger. They were thick and long and Elrond rolled his eyes in pleasure.

Gil-Galad tested out Elrond's entry, and found, "you are very wide, my dear Elrond. You have indeed kept up your training."

He then entered a second saliva-wet finger and massaged the hole to prepare Elrond for his penis.

"More spit," Elrond asked when it hurt too much.

Gil-Galad did as asked and spat onto his bottom skin to rub it all in. He slighlty bent his fingers to feel for the prostate. He knew he found it when Elrond moaned in satisfaction.

"It might have been centuries, but I still know how to please you," Gil-Galad said amused. Soon thereafter, he added a third finger. His mouth was getting dry as he was using all of his saliva to wet Elrond's behind.

Elrond's breathing had turned heavy. Now, Gil-Galad turned him onto his back again. He crawled over his legs and started to work on his abandoned penis again. It did not take much work to erect it again. The elf climbed between the Peredhel's legs and Elrond bent them to place his shanks against Gil-Galad's chest. It lifted his pelvis into a more comfortable position and eased the entry of Gil-Galad. He penetrated Elrond carefully and asked him to spit into his hand so that he could wet his penis. Gently, he began rocking in and out of Elrond who was over the moon. He felt so happy like not in centuries and the times that he had been a low-ranked Lieutenant sneaking into his Captains tent came back into his mind.

"I loved you," Elrond muttered when he was close to climaxing. He kept rubbing his penis and both the work on his erection and in his anus made him feel ecstasy.

Gil-Galad thrusted into him in a smooth rhythm. It took them both a very long time to climax and when the ancient elf warrior emptied into the half-elf, Elrond released onto his bellly. Gil-Galad licked it all off and kissed Elrond to give him a share of his semen. Elrond was sweating profoundly, being part-human. Gil-Galad was out of breath and lay down next to him, and Elrond cuddle onto him.

"I wish you could remain here with me and we spent eternity together," Gil-Galad said.

"Maybe we can."

"You have commitments. You have Legolas. You will return to him." He places a finger onto Elrond's mouth before the half-elf could answer. "Go take a bath. You will have to get ready for your return to the world of the living. You are too good for these halls."

This time it were tears of sadness that rolled over Elrond's cheeks. But he understood. He nodded and gave Gil-Galad a final kiss. When their lips parted, he felt like he had finally managed to make the good-bye to him that he wanted to. He gathered his clothes and walked to the Sea of Enlightment. The water felt neither warm nor cold, and he doze off with his head leaning against the rocks.


	18. Near Rivendell

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**Content warning: anal sex, oral sex, incest, violence.  
**

* * *

Chapter 18

The elves had been riding for nearly two days straight when they began to climb the mountain passes. The road was becoming steep and just enough for the horses to handle. They kept the nights short as they wanted to move as quickly as possible. Only long after nightfall did Thranduil signal the company to halt and rest. They had packed quickly and only the most necessary things for the war. The riders lay down with their heads on the bags and most shared blankets.

Thranduil and Glorfindel, the heads of both elf-kins, put down their blankets in quite remote distance to the other warriors. Thranduil was glad that Legolas was staying among his archer troop, but he looked absent and lost in thought. Thranduil could not blame him. He had reacted far worse when the love of _his_ life had been taken from him.

"We stop only shortly at Rivendell," Glorfindel said and pulled out a map of Arda. They sat down and lit a small bonfire. It was getting cold and the night was dark without a moon. "We get reinforcements in men and supplies and then we continue our ride."

"Morgoth might have already left Weathertop towards the West or he is gathering orc armies there. We cannot know," Thranduil said and regarded the map. Arda was so big and yet too small for all its occupants. He had never desired to expand beyond his borders and there had even been a time where he had never cared for anything outside his lands.

His glance was resting on the map, and so he did not realise that Glorfindel's look had wandered to his face. He then looked up and noticed. "What?"

"You liked Elrond, didn't you?"

Thranduil snorted and folded the piece of paper. He stood up to put it back into his horse's pocket. He suddenly felt Glorfindel standing behind him. The Elven-king sighed. "I accepted him as my son's love."

"Did you ever engage with him?"

The Elven-king chuckled. "Oh yes, yes we have," he said. He felt Glorfindel's touch in his neck. He was wearing heavy armour which he now started to remove. Glorfindel knew what the king wanted, and he grabbed his hair and briskly turned him around. Thranduil looked into the blonde elf's smiling face. He seemed so weightless, so careless, but at the same time he knew which burden he was tasked with.

"Elrond is safe in the Halls of Waiting," Glorfindel said and leaned his head against Thranduil's. "I've been there, I've done that. He is being cared for," and with that he pressed his chin forward until his lips touched those of the Elven-king.

"We haven't done this in a very long time," Thranduil whispered, being careful that no one heard them. He did not want his son to know about *this* story.

"The last time when…" Glorfindel did not dare to finish the sentence, but the Elven-king did it for him, "when my father died." Thranduil held Glorfindel's chin higher and bent over him again. He was taller and broader built, and he used that to his advantage.

"I've got something," Glorfindel muttered and walked to his horse. He returned with a small fabric bag. He pulled out a metallic butt plug.

"You still have it?" Thranduil asked surprised. It had been a gift.

They returned to the campfire and lay out blankets. They were in safe distance from the rest of the elves whose bonfires were shimmering in the distance. There were hardly birds or animals to be heard and most of the riders were sleeping by now.

"It would be such a beautiful night if we were not to go to war," the elf lord said while undressing himself. He lay down next to Thranduil when he was naked as well. He leaned over the pale, muscular of the king and put his head down. His hair fell down like a stream flowing, glittering in the light of the fire. Thranduil began kissing his head and glided his hands over Glorfindel's back and arm. His touch felt so tender, so unnatural for a big elf like him. It spent Glorfindel warmth on the side that was averted from the heat source. After a while, he also started to fondle the king's skin. He began kissing his nipples and his chest and went further down on him. He inhaled the lemon scent that had once been so familiar to him.

"It's been a while," he muttered but Thranduil only responded by exhaling in relief. He had closed his eyes and enjoyed the work done by the former Lord of Gondolin.

Glorfindel crouched down beneath Thranduil's penis, but before he started his work, he turned the Sindarin elf onto the side until he had found a comfortable lying position. The Ñoldorin elf then began to kiss and lick Thranduil's arse until he found himself his way to the arsehole. He wetted the metallic butt plug with spit and began to massage his way into the king's opening.

A smile formed on Thranduil's face. "I can always trust in your abilities. Both on the battlefield and before we are to fight," he muttered. He felt Glorfindel's left hand glide over his waist and his wary kisses on his skin. He inhaled deeply when the butt plug was inside of him at his fullest. Glorfindel bent over him to give him a short kiss on his mouth before he climbed over him to do work on his penis. Thranduil had been rubbing his erection for a while now and Glorfindel did skilfully suckle at his hardness that still needed some work.

Thranduil gasped for air again and the deep breathing sounded like music in Glorfindel's ears. He preferred, however, Elrond's desperate attempts to pant for air because his voice sounded rougher and dirtier. His lips rubbed over Thranduil's glans and boosted his arousal. He continued sucking and licking until Thranduil finally came into his mouth. Glorfindel swallowed and twisted the butt plug which he had been pulling out and pushing in with constant movement. He turned over Thranduil's butt, kissing and fondling it. He pulled out the butt plug completely and froze mid-movement. The butt plug was glowing blue!

"Orcs!" Glorfindel hissed and jumped up. They got dressed in no time. As soon as they had removed all evidence from their nightly encounter, Thranduil repeated loudly, "ORCS!" Elves began to awake, shouting to arm themselves and patrols spread out. It was a matter of mere minutes until the first clashing of swords. Within another few minutes, the nightly camp of the elves was turned into a battle place. Orc heads flew across the field, trees were drowned in dark brown blood. It was already becoming day again when the few orcs that survived the encounter hurried off in the direction of Rivendell.

Glorfindel watched them run away. "They will be slaughtered at Rivendell," he predicted.

"Saddle the horses. We go for a hunt," Thranduil shouted and climbed onto his trustful horse. It was the tallest and most elegant one among all Woodland horses, but nothing could replace his beloved elk.

* * *

The elves loved light and starlight. Some stars were still in the sky, but the lack of the moon dampened the mood among the elves of Imladris. That's why Glorfindel had initiated more dancing and singing sessions in the evening and while he was gone, Erestor kept them mandatory.

It was therefore late at night already when Elladan and Elrohir returned to their chambers in the upper level of Elrond's house. They stood a while in the corridor, not knowing what to say. Sometimes, they preferred to sleep in the same bed to spend each other comfort. Without verbal communication, they knew that tonight was such a night.

Elrohir silently entered Elladan's room and they lit a torch at the wall. They did not want the night to be hulled in complete darkness.

"It is scary looking outside," Elladan said. There were hardly lights lit in the valley as most elves had spent their night at the festival indoors and were now tapsing to their homes.

Elrohir put a hand onto his brother's shoulder. "It is also becoming colder. Winter is coming."

"Then it is upon us to spread light and warmth."

"Light we have," Elrohir said and nodded over to the lonely torch at the wall which doused the room in interesting shadowplay. "Warmth we have to give to each other." Elrohir stepped forward and gave his brother a tender kiss on his lips. Elladan smiled and then answered the act of kindness.

"It has been a few days since Glorfindel," Elladan understated the time since they had made love to the blonde Gondolin-Lord.

"Let's make sure we have improved since then," his twin brother said and placed his hands on his brother's shoulder. Their hands were not as big and they were not as manly as their father's, but they were as tall and muscular.

Their hands started gliding all over their bodies and over the clothes that began falling to the floor one by one. While devouring each other's mouths, they began moving towards the bed. It was an inelegant, simple bed made of wood and decorated with carvings. For a Lord's child it was inelegant, for an elf it was normal and for a man it would have been aesthetic. But Lord Elrond had always raised his sons without any privileges in their status and so they have become hard working and honest elf warriors who did not shy away from doing physical work.

And physical work they did. When the last piece of clothing had dropped to the floor, Elladan climbed onto Elrohir's body. He loved making love to his brother as it was like making love to himself. They had each explored their own bodies when they were young and now, they felt so comfortable about the other's body that they knew exactly what stimulated the other one.

Elladan kissed his brother and his mouth glided down his body like water in a stream he would bath in. The sound of kisses was like music in Elrohir's ears and he let his brother do all the work. Elladan reached the pelvis and inhaled the scent of his twin's skin before starting to lick his testicles. Elladan's relaxed breathing and sounds of approval turned into moans that became more and more involuntary and less and less easy to hold back.

They hoped that no one would hear them but there were no other elves scheduled to sleep in the vicinity. While Elladan started to taste his brother's penis, Elrohir began fumbling for the flask of oil in his night table drawer. When his penis was hard, he told his brother to turn around. Elladan climbed over his twin's body and bent forward so that his behind pointed toward Elrohir's face. While he continued engaging with his hardness, Elrohir began massaging his well-oiled index finger into Elladan's butthole.

He soon added a second finger and spread them like a scissor to widen his brother's arse. They had both been gifted with thick penises, and that way they had learnt very early to prepare each other properly.

Elladan moaned and begged for a third finger. He knew that whatever measures they took to prepare, his brother's hardness always hurt at first. It was a pleasurable pain that he enjoyed when Elrohir was positioning his brother above him. Elrohir moved to the end of the bed to lean against the many pillows. Elladan moved with him but positioned himself above his brother's pelvis. Elrohir grabbed his waist and started to move his bottom onto his erect penis. He distributed oil all over his genitals and rubbed his erection until it was very smooth. Then he lowered his twin's pelvis down to him. Elladan began to moan in pain and lust while he glided onto Elrohir's thick cock.

Elladan moved up and down in a slow rhythm, giving moans of pleasure in irregular intervals. Elrohir guided his movements with his hands on his hips. He watched the hair jump up and down playfully and began to undo the ties. When he had released into his brother, he pulled him back to him and Elladan lay down with his back on his chest. His brown hair spread all over his skin and tickled a bit. Elladan looked up and kissed his brother's cheek. Elrohir smiled and began to grab Elladan's erectness with both hands. His twin closed his eyes and leaned his head against his brother's while the work was being done on him. In the end, he released with a satisfied outbreath onto the bedsheet.

Elladan moved upwards for Elrohir to pull out of him, but then he lay down onto his brother's chest again. It was so peaceful for both of them to lie close to each other, having spent their lustful drives in full trust. Their breathing was synchronised, and their hair mingled on their pale skin.

They must have both dozen off because suddenly there was light outside and elves were near, shouting something they could not make out yet. Afraid to be caught in sinful position, the twins jumped up and got dressed in appropriate clothing. When they ran outside, they could clearly hear the elves yelling of orcs and running towards the torches to cast light into the valley. It did not take long for the first orc creatures to show themselves.

Elladan and Elrohir ran back inside at once and grabbed their swords. Five minutes later, they were engaged in the fight at the border of their city as the orcs had probably been disoriented and had wanted to avoid the Elvish settlement. Soon thereafter, the Imladris elves also found out what it was that made the orcs so disoriented: Thranduil, Glorfindel, and company came galloping through the dark. It must have been the whole woodland realm that followed them.

"What is happening?" Erestor asked. He had just been slaughtering three Orcs who now lay dismembered on top of each other.

"We are going to fight Morgoth," Glorfindel answered whilst beheading an orc. "We ride to the coast and sail to Aman to save our beloved lands," he added while stabbing the heart of another one. "But first we need to slay these misborn and restock our supplies."

"And we will take every able warrior with us," Legolas answered. Erestor had not even spotted him until now as the elf prince was even paler and more slender than last time that he had seen him. He was jumping from tree to tree and tried to massacre orcs in the most violent way. His clothes were already drenched in brown blood, but he lusted for more.


	19. The caves of Rivendell

**The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance.**

**Content warnings: sex, torture, character death.**

**I find a scene in this chapter repulsive. Hence, be warned.**

**Spoilers: Also, friends of mine suggested to write about Hobbits and dwarves, so I did. No sex scenes with them though.**

**The Gollum sex scene I only wrote because a friend said that this would be the only thing left that would disturb him. I take such words as a challenge.**

Chapter 19

Tom Sandyman could really not be bothered with any more of those queer stories and tales that now arrived from all over the place. Ever since the dwarves had suddenly marched into The Shire, strange riders came and went, most of them human or elvish. They talked with the dwarves, and then they continued on their journey. Most Hobbits did not ask where their journey would lead, and Tom was the least of all interested in that.

He had become an old Hobbit now, and all he wanted was his peace. To get it, he went to The Green Dragon at Bywater every evening and ordered a large pint of peace, also called freshly brewed beer by the Brandybuck family. In recent days, his peace, however, felt disturbed as dwarves frequented the inn as well. He had nothing against other folk, as he was used to seeing them at The Prancing Pony, but that was in Bree, and here at Bywater, it was strange seeing foreign lads.

Nevertheless, he sat down with his pint at the fireplace and began poking in the fire logs. Hamfast Gardner soon sat down next to him, also with a beer. "Strange sightings over Weathertop," he said and sipped at his drink.

"Strange sightings all over the place," Tom replied and left the fire alone. He turned to Hamfast. Then his gaze shifted to the entry of the pub where three large, hairy creatures entered who were nearly as wide as their were tall.

"Three big Gaffer's Home Brew," one could hear one of the dwarves shout in his dwarfish accent.

"Look, they're liking your grandfather's legacy," Tom said and laughed. He had known old Hamfast Gamgee, gardener in The Shire.

One of the dwarves seemed to have overheard Tom's comment and once they had received their drinks, he directed his friends over to the two hobbits. As dwarves were only slightly taller than the halfling-folk, they could sit down on their normal chairs, even though those creaked dangerously under the weight.

"Your Seanair invented these?" the tallest dwarf with long, red hair and a beard nearly as long as his head hair, asked.

Hamfast nodded. "Yes. We drink it on holidays and festivals to his honour," he explained.

"Aye, your grandpa must have been a wise man. And very hoachin' in his days," the brown-haired dwarf who was just as fat as the red hair one, said and gulped down half of his drink at once.

"We were just discussing the strange sightings over Weathertop," Hamfast Gardner explained.

"Oh yeah, there was a man-rider today who came from there," the red-haired dwarf said. "He explained that something came down from the sky. That no one now dares to go near Weathertop, but that strange creatures are drawn to it."

"No one goes there but strange creatures? That would be half the Shire," Tom said and laughed at his own joke.

"Only twallies would go there," the brown-haired dwarf said.

"Orcs, spiders, flies, wargs, even Uruks," the red-haired dwarf added.

Tom looked at Hamfast with an uneasy look on his face. These were exactly the news he did not want to get in The Shire. Especially not after a long day of work in which he ignored anything funny or queer.

"Are you not here to keep all those creatures away from us?" Tom asked.

"Aye. But only when they attack you," the red-haired dwarf agreed. Like on command, a dwarfish horn was blown. It was the horn of battle. The red-haired, the brown-haired, and the silent dwarf all jumped up and ran out within a matter of seconds – several seconds.

Tom and Hamfast looked at each other. "They'll protect us," Tom said and drank his beer.

Hamfast was not so sure.

Maim, the red-haired dwarf, came to a sudden halt, and Laim, his brown-haired brother, bumped into him.

"Watch your step," Maim complained and looked at Dimli, the dwarf that had blown the horn. Many dwarves had gathered around him, and nearly all the hobbits had fled into their holes or homes or inns. There was one particularly tall figure though which confused Maim.

"Who's that?" Laim asked and Maim shrugged. The three dwarves stumped forwards to the gathering of other dwarves and the tall person.

"What's all that noise about?" Laim wanted to know. He was louder than most other dwarves.

"Dimli blew the horn because he thought we were being attacked," a really short dwarf, who probably had and disputed any hobbit relationship, answered. "Just because he saw a tall elf coming out of the woods. As if we were afraid of the elves."

"We're even helping the elves," another dwarf joined in.

"We all have the same goal," the calm voice of the tall elf spoke from above them. All the dwarves shut up and looked at the tall figure. He did stand out with his long, white robes. He even seemed to be shimmering in the lack of moonlight. "We need to cast out evil from our lands and defeat Morgoth once and for all." His voice roared through the night, and many hobbits, who missed the sound of clinging swords, dared to peak out of their hiding places again.

"Morgoth will soon pass through these lands and nothing can stop him," the wise elf spoke with a sad face. "The prophecy foresees him reaching the Undying Lands and fighting the battle of all battles on these grounds. The Shire only lies in his way."

"We will defend our home," one keen Hobbit, probably a Took, shouted. Some hobbits who had never done any fighting in their lives, except for arguing about the last carrot on the marketplace, yelled in agreement.

"Morgoth and his orc army will overrun these lands. The only question is whether he will kill its inhabitants on his way or not," the dark haired elf said wisely.

"Then what do you suppose?" Faramir I, the son of Peregrin Took asked. He pushed himself through the crowd. "What do you suppose, Lord Elrond?"

* * *

The sun rose over Rivendell and finally, the fires could be extinguished. Glorfindel was busy sorting and organising supplies and horses and men, when suddenly a shout reached him. He was standing in front of the down-valley horse shed when he saw Erestor rushing towards him. The blonde elf took the hand in front of his eyes as the sun was blinding him.

"What is it, Erestor?" Glorfindel asked and then spotted more elves running around agitatedly.

"Gollum," Erestor replied out of breath. He must have been running up and down the many buildings of the city in order to find Glorfindel. "He has been found."

"What?" Glorfindel asked. He could not believe what he was hearing. That slimy creature had not been seen by a living soul ever since Frodo had failed to cast the ring into the fires of Mount Doom. "Where is he?" He began rushing towards the upper buildings and Erestor had problems keeping up with his pace.

"He is being brought into the interrogation chambers. Thranduil has been informed as well." Erestor expected a storm to break lose at the mention of the Elven-king's name but Glorfindel ignored him.

The Elven-lord stopped and the brown-haired elf bumped into him. "Ready the horses. Ration the supplies. Organise the troops," Glorfindel commanded and continued alone to the so-called interrogation chambers. Those were actually a house built behind the main buildings, far from anyone living, and carved half into the mountains. They were seldomly used as the deep elves were a peaceful people – despite their past.

Glorfindel spotted the blond-shimmering hair of Thranduil right away. He was just watching how the small, not remotely hobbit-like creature was strained to a torture table. The servants left and let the two blonde elves alone.

"Do you think he can be of any help?" Glorfindel asked.

Thranduil did not bother to turn to him but continued staring at the grey, vile halfling screaming and shouting. "Shut up," he roared and surprisingly, Gollum did shut up. He probably remembered Thranduil, and he remembered how Gandalf had threatened him to talk many years ago.

Gollum watched the elegant Elven-king with his big, round eyes. His whole body was trembling but he dared not squeak a sound.

"What were you doing near this city?" Thranduil spoke and his deep voice echoed from the cave walls.

"Fishing… we was fishing… we was hungry," Gollum replied, now his eyes started to uneasily swift from the left to the right and back.

Thranduil wanted to inquire further, but suddenly a shadow appeared in the door, darkening the inside.

"The leaders' council is awaiting you, King Thranduil," Erestor said and bowed half-officially.

"Fine. You take care of this scum," the Elven-king said, and he and Glorfindel left the brown-haired Ñoldorin alone with the grey creature.

"What _were_ you doing?" Erestor asked. "You can go fishing everywhere there is a river."

Gollum began to squeak again even though no one had even hurt him yet. "We feels alone. We feels so alone," he cried. "The ring is gone from us and now it is only me… and me." His yells were reduced to a sobbing that was painful to watch. He had not had the ring in years, but he had not recovered from the things that it had done to him. Erestor felt pity and slowly walked towards the whining gestalt.

"The ring is gone, Gollum," Erestor said softly.

Apart from an additional sob, there was no other sound from Gollum.

Erestor sighed and began to bind him lose from his restrains.

"We just want to feel loved again… protected… safe," Gollum weeped.

The elf closed his eyes. He, too, knew the feeling of just wanting to be loved. Being close to a person, feeling the warmth of the skin, feeling the touch on his own skin. Such simple feelings, but yet people who had them knew not how special they were. Those who lacked those touches were the only ones who could appreciate them. He reached forward and touched Gollum's head.

Gollum shrieked at first, but then let it happen. He had not been touched by another person in centuries if it were not for torture, so he needed to get used to it.

Erestor's hand wiped away the tears from Gollum's big eyes. He crouched down next to him and opened his arms. Gollum broke into tears again when he leaped into the hug. "We just wants to be loooved," he sobbed and dug his round head into Erestor's chest. The few hairs that he had clung to his skin, and Erestor softly fondled the back of his head. He seemed so fragile. He could not imagine what kind of torture his life must have been. He could not imagine the deep sorrow that had been eating him up from the inside.

"Do you want to be loved?" Erestor suddenly asked.

Gollum at first did not react but then looked up to the elf. He blinked and more, big tears flowed down his cheeks. Erestor bent forwards and licked them off his face.

"Yes," Gollum squeaked. "Yes, we wants to be loved." His eyes were suddenly glowing with life again. He turned around and let down his loincloth.

Erestor gently touched his head again. "Are you sure, Sméagol?"

"Yes, yes, I am sure," Sméagol answered and bent forward.

Erestor also dropped his pants and undergarments. He began to rub his member and also Gollum's butt cheeks to relax him. He spit onto his fingers and rubbed them until they go properly wet.

"You need to relax, Sméagol," he said and began to enter him with his fingers. He massaged his slender fingers into Gollum's butt until he deemed him wide enough. Then he bent over him and entered his penis. Gollum moaned and panted. He felt as lively as he had not felt in centuries.

While Erestor worked in him with gentle pushes, Gollum began to talk, "we hears much. Men are in anguish, dwarves are restless. People move all over the lands. Then there was lights, bright lights. It hurt Gollum in his eyes. It was near Weathertop. Vile creatures followed it. Orcs and spiders and birds, they all went there. We wanted to go there, but then I said no, no. We cannot go there. We ran, we ran very far. We wanted to hide in our caves again, in the mountains. On our way there, we was caught here." Gollum's story was interrupted from moans then and again. Then, when he had finished his story, he came into his hands and greedily licked the sticky liquid off. Erestor came in Gollum's behind and then pulled out his penis. He sat down on the stone floor and breathed heavily. He had not had such actions in weeks.

"Is this all?" he asked, referring to the story.

"I swears. I swears by myself. We told you the whole truth," Gollum squeaked and put on his loincloth again.

Erestor nodded. "Good," he said and pulled up his pants. "I will tell the council."

"No need," a voice behind him said and he rushed around.

"King Thranduil!" Erestor's voice nearly swallowed itself. He fumbled his trousers closed and bowed, his head red ashamed.

"Gollum said he watched the return of Morgoth near Weathertop and this is what drew him near our town," Erestor explained.

"Good," Thranduil said and stepped closer to the grey creature that squatted on the floor in fear of the Elven-king. "Then we shall not need it anymore," the Sindarin elf decided and drew his sword. Erestor watched Gollum's head roll on the floor sooner than his penis could go limp.

"Why did you do that?" he asked upset.

"As I said, there was no need for him anymore. Besides, you deserve at least a dwarf-mate," Thranduil answered sarcastically and wiped his sword clean. "I did it a favour, after all. Maybe a bigger than you did." He looked at the beheaded creature with an expression of full disgust on his face. He quickly turned to Erestor, then left the cave again. He had had enough of stinking caves or dungeons in a while and went to search Glorfindel. He lusted for some action in a proper bed before they would soon be on their way riding and camping.


	20. Glorfindel's bed

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**Content warning: BDSM, oral sex.  
**

* * *

Chapter 20

After dinner, the elves went to bed fairly early for their standards. They knew they had stressful days of riding ahead and wanted to be as fit as possible. Glorfindel and Thranduil, however, knew that they would use this short time of privacy for intimate togetherness. The blonde elf-Lord invited the King into his chamber which was located in Elrond's house, but luckily out of earshot from the twins'.

While Thranduil lay down his royal gowns, Glorfindel pulled all sorts of instruments and toys out of a secret department underneath the wood floor. Thranduil had to smile at the sight of it. He was missing his nights with Galion, but Glorfindel was so much more handsome and perhaps as willing as his trustful butler.

Glorfindel felt joy at the prospect of making love with the ruler of Mirkwood forest again. Before their nightly encounter on the journey to Rivendell, they had not shared intimacy in centuries. He had helped Thranduil explore his body and made him learn many things that Glorfindel in turn had learnt from elder elves. He turned to the drawer and took out a t-shirt made of leather strips. They were neatly sewn together by black yarn, making it look half-transparent. There were metal eyelets in two lines going from the shoulders to the end of the shirt. The blonde elf handed it to the king. Thranduil dropped the rest of his clothes and put on the shirt and the leather undergarments that the submissive elf handed him as well. The king had a look at this particular clothing, as it was made completely out of leather, but there was a flap in front where the leather-piece hid a hole in the underwear. Thranduil put it on and the flap, attached to the lower part of the trousers with a few knots on strings, showed a bulge hinting Thranduil's immense manhood.

"What will you wear?" Thranduil asked interested. Glorfindel walked over to his wardrobe and inspected his clothes for a while. Then he pulled something from a corner deep down in the armoire and began to put it on. Thranduil tried not to laugh out aloud but failed miserably. It were simple straps of tight, black fabric, joined over his shoulders and his sides in a big metal ring that prominently showed on his manly, hairless, muscular chest. One strap went down to another ring that he had fumbled his balls and penis inside. The cold metal prickled comfortably on his skin.

"You look adequate to a king's pleasure," Thranduil said and waved the millennia old elf over.

"I hope I will perform as adequately as I look," Glorfindel said and bowed exaggeratedly before giving himself into a hug of Thranduil.

"I will make you perform adequately," the king said and wiped the hair to Glorfindel's back.

"King Thranduil," Glorfindel began and jumped onto the bed. "I have to confess… while being at your palace and greeted with respect by each and every one of your men and planning war with you, highest king, I have sinned. I have used my powers as the representative of Imladris, and I have slept with servants who have vowed their loyalty to you and your house."

Thranduil chuckled as he was very well aware of Glorfindel's endeavours earlier this month in his woods. "Tell me, Glorfindel, and I shall punish you for your misdeeds." He paced closer to the bed in which Glorfindel uncurled. His heart started to beat higher when he watched the blonde elf stretch his limbs in a teasing fashion. He had the sudden urge to bite him into his pale, flawless skin, but Thranduil held back.

"No, my King. I am too afraid of your punishments. I have heard many stories, and you are very cruel to your people," Glorfindel pleaded playfully.

"I am cruel to those who deserve it," Thranduil answered and picked up a framework of leather and hooks. "Do you deserve it?" he asked while applying the collar part around Glorfindel's neck, careful not to lock in his beautiful golden strands.

Glorfindel felt the collar fixed on his neck, but Thranduil had given him enough breathing space. He held his hands up in fists and answered, "oh yes, I deserve it." Thranduil bound the leather strips that were connected to the collar by metal hooks around Glorfindel's hands, making him unable to take his hands further from his neck than half an arm's length. With his restricted movement ability, Glorfindel lay back and his hair spread out on the pillow. Thranduil enjoyed this sight, but then he proceeded to the legs of the submissive elf. He fetched the leather restraints and bound them loosely around Glorfindel's ankles, tying the laces to the bed posts. Now, the elf-Lord lay with his legs spread and his arms confined, ready for Thranduil to dominate him.

"I deserve everything that you do to me because I have not only secretly slept with Galion and Lindir, but also with Aduialas, Curwand, and Manadhion. I have been very busy, and I have enjoyed seducing your kin."

Thranduil took a black rope on which a wooden ball was strung. "You know, Ñoldorin, you talk too much." He bent forward and put the wooden ball into Glorfindel's mouth, binding the rope together behind his head. He then gave him a small bell into his hand. "If you need me to stop, drop the bell or ring it, and I will stop immediately. Understood?"

Glorfindel nodded. His tongue was pressing against the wood and his mouth was producing too much saliva. He had a hard time swallowing, but the look at the king in these leather clothes made him feel hot, not only his body, but also his head. He truly wished Thranduil would start work on him already for he could feel a prickling beginning in his arms and legs. But instead, Thranduil began inspecting Glorfindel's drawer with toys. He took out a set of metal clips, similar to the wooden ones that the elves used to hang up their clothes to dry. Small weights had been carefully added to the clips.

Thranduil smiled devilishly when he began applying a clip each to Glorfindel's rosy nipples. He gasped at the sudden, localised pain in a very sensitive area of his body. He had not used the clips in a long time, and now he suddenly felt the well-known pain again. He cried silently, making Thranduil chuckle ever more. "Are we not used to pain anymore?" he teased him. "Have we enjoyed the life at Imladris too much? Have we become weak?" He released one clip and then pinched it on again. Glorfindel panted heavily and pressed his eyes together. Hot waves were rushing through his body, but the longer they held on, the more pleasant the pain became.

Glorfindel tried to say something through his gag, but there were no clear words in his muffled voice. "I cannot hear you, my dear Lord," Thranduil laughed.

Glorfindel was the most entrusted advisor or Lord Elrond, and Thranduil enjoyed him being enslaved to his will. Merely watching the elf in pain was already stimulus for the king to rub his penis. Slowly, he began and watched every movement in the submissive elf's face.

"Would you also enjoy that?" Thranduil asked and pointed at his penis.

Glorfindel nodded.

"Would you enjoy being worked on?" the king wanted to know and played with the tip of his erecting penis. "Would you enjoy feeling the touch, the warmth?" He spit into his fingers and rubbed them over his glans that was a shade rosier than his shaft.

Glorfindel nodded again.

Thranduil bent forwards and licked Glorfindel's penis from the balls to the tip. There, he let his tongue dance and wetted the tip. Glorfindel moaned. Finally, his prickling sensation began to relieve him, and he felt pleasure rising from his hardness to his head. But then Thranduil's tongue left him and he blew gently onto the wet tip. A cold shiver ran down Glorfindel's back. Thranduil was teasing him and he would probably not let him release until he was more than satisfied himself!

Thranduil went to the drawer again and took out a variety of rings: golden, silver, grey-matt, black, brass, Eastern caoutchouc, aluminium metal, tight rope. There were different sizes, different thicknesses. "What is this?" he laughed. "I had no idea you had such a rich possession of rings. You are truly a Lord of the Rings." He let his fingers strive over them, finally choosing a golden one with little diamonds on its outer side. It fitted perfectly not only onto Glorfindel's penis, but also matched both their hairs. "You will stay longer and harder, and you will be able to please me all I want," Thranduil explained why he had chosen Glorfindel to wear a ring.

Glorfindel moaned in response. He knew that the arousal would be torture, but it was definitely worth it in the end. He lay his head on his side and watched how his penis shook slightly. Then he realised it was his whole body. He was in such arousal that he could not hold still. Thranduil's hand glided over his body. "You have too much energy, Ñoldorin elf," he said and produced a flogger from the night table.

Without realising it, Glorfindel tensed his body in anticipation. "Relax, high elf, relax," Thranduil said softly. He took Glorfindel's arms who he had been holding of his chest and pushed them higher, as far over his head as was possible with the restraints. "Relax for I intend to hurt you," he added, now anything but softly and soon stroke him with the first lash. As Glorfindel's reaction was more a moan than an indication of pain, the king began to flog him harder. He repeated it, over and over again, until Glorfindel's chest was red and he was twitching.

For Glorfindel, the pain and the arousal were mixed, and he could not hold these feelings apart. He wanted to indicate to Thranduil to work on his penis again as he desperately needed the attention, but it was as if the king could read thoughts. When Thranduil began to push his own penis against that of Glorfindel, he forgot the pain and focused on the pleasure again. Any time that a part of Thranduil's member brushed against the sensitive glans of Glorfindel, he gave a vocal response.

"You like that," Thranduil found and bent down to take the glans into his mouth. He sucked carefully as if it was an ice cube on a hot summer day. Then he started to suckle at the skin of Glorfindel's balls before taking the balls completely into his mouth while rubbing his hands over his shaft and glans. Glorfindel's moans became louder, and he looked to the ceiling, rolling his eyes. He wanted to come, he wanted the release, but he still felt far from it. Then Thranduil stopped the play with his penis and started rubbing his own which needed a bit of work to be erect again. When he had achieved this, he strode back to the side of the bed again, feeling pleasure at the silent whimpering of Glorfindel who he had denied relieve.

Thranduil now picked out an eye mask from Glorfindel's vast repertoire of sex toys. It was made of black leather and decorated with glass diamonds. Thranduil held it in front of Glorfindel who nodded in agreement. "Remember you have the bell to tell me to stop," Thranduil reminded him while he bound the mask around his head. "Can you see?" he asked and Glorfindel shook his head. "Are you comfortable?" he added and Glorfindel nodded. "Do you want me to describe what I am going to do next?" Thranduil asked and Glorfindel shook his head again. "Do you want to be surprised?" Glorfindel nodded. Thranduil laughed silently and menacingly. This elf was all too willing, and he enjoyed that. He rubbed his manhood and knew that he would soon have to focus on release.

"You have been a very bad elf," Thranduil now began to grip the flogger again. He rushed it down onto Glorfindel's chest. "You are an embarrassment for our kin. You can be glad that no one knows of your deeds or I would have you stripped and bare hanging from my dungeon's ceiling."

Glorfindel could not anticipate when the next stroke of the whip would hit him, and he enjoyed this ignorance. Thranduil did not hit him too hard, so it was only slight pain and it felt just perfect. His chest was hot and so was his head. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were closed under the darkness. He had leaned his head back as he could not watch his sex partner anyway. He imagined Thranduil standing over him, how his blonde hair fell onto the leather shirt, and how his face was a display of anger, mockery, dominance, and pure arousal. This all aroused him even more. Suddenly, he felt his lover's touch at the back of his head. Thranduil was removing his gag.

"Ssh," Thranduil made and lay his index finger on Glorfindel's mouth. "I want to hear no word from my fallen from grace elf."

Glorfindel behaved and said nothing, only using his open mouth for panting heavily. Then suddenly, something else was bound around his head again. It was similar to the gag before, but this time it was a metal ring instead of a wooden ball that held his mouth open. The ring was just big enough for the tip of a penis to enter, so that was naturally what Glorfindel expected. He yelled in surprise and pain when suddenly something – or rather some things, bored themselves into his already reddened chest.

Thranduil must have found his spiky bra! Glorfindel had been inspired by love play with a she-elf he had known in Gondolin and hence developed a bra for men that also adorned spikes on the inside. He clenched his hands to fists. His arms were even paler now, as the blood circulation to his limb was decreased. Even though his chest ached as the spikes pierced his flesh, he held the ring in a firm grip.

"With what you endure here and now," Thranduil began, obviously enjoying the view, "the orcs will have nothing on you." He relieved Glorfindel of the spiky bra and licked all over the marks. Some points on his skin were bleeding, and he licked the blood off and tasted it. "Your blood is sweet, Glorfindel. I believe the orcs will love to taste it, too," he said. He bent over Glorfindel's head, his platinum hair mingling with that of the Ñoldorin lord. He pressed his tongue through the metal ring into Glorfindel's mouth and their tongue started to play lustfully. Glorfindel enjoyed the heat and wetness, but just as he found further arousal in it, Thranduil denied him again.

Glorfindel could not sense the king anymore. He knew that he must be moving somewhere around him. That's why his sudden grasp for air was so painful when the hand of Thranduil came smacking down on his cheek so mercilessly. He had not expected this move and his cheek started to burn instantly. Thranduil laughed at the successful surprise. He then climbed onto the submissive elf and pushed his manhood inside of the ring. Glorfindel was still in shock, but then his tongue suddenly felt the wet tip of Thranduil. He caught himself again, even though his cheek was still aching, and began to lick around the king's glans.

"Oh yes, Glorfindel," Thranduil moaned and straightened his back. The platinum hair on his chest and belly were moving with the trembling of his own body caused by the ultimate arousal. He had denied himself for so long, and the ring around his penis and balls had helped in achieving such long erection. But now, he knew, it was time to climax the game. He grabbed behind himself and touched Glorfindel's skin. He moved his slender fingers over his body, then licked them and put them back onto Glorfindel's jewels. He squeezed the balls until he heard a vocal protest of Glorfindel in the form of a short yell. But the yellow-blonde elf did not stop to please his master. As reward, Thranduil moved his hand over to the penis and began rubbing it slowly and gently. He increased in pace, but when he knew that Glorfindel was close to coming, he denied him again and put both his hands into Glorfindel's hair and pulled it towards him.

"Are you ready to feel my mercy?" Thranduil asked.

Glorfindel made a noise through the ring-gag that sounded like an agreement. Thranduil bent forward, his hair tingling on the tied elf's chest. He released him of the gag so that now, Glorfindel's mouth was free. Thranduil stood up and turned around. He took his penis and guided it between Glorfindel's lips again. But now, he could also focus on the hard erection of the Gondolin lord. While Glorfindel began to lick and engulf the glans with his mouth and continued his lustful game, Thranduil spat onto the penis in front of him and began his work as well. He began to suckle amorously, and then he used his hand to rub as fast as he could. He heard Glorfindel gasp but not neglect his own work. And the moment that Thranduil felt the sudden release, Glorfindel's sweet secretion also ejected into his mouth. They came in harmony and in increased ecstasy as their warm semen filled each other's mouth.

They continued both the care with their lips and when the moment of absolute carelessness, and joy, and stopped heartbeat was over, Thranduil reached out with his hands and quickly loosened the ankle ties. Glorfindel's legs sacked down onto the soft bed. Thranduil threw himself backwards and next to Glorfindel. Their hairs were mixing again in a smooth yellow-platinum sea. The king took off the eye mask and Glorfindel could finally see again his partner in crime. Finally, Thranduil released his wrists off the bonding, and unlocked his collar. He then stripped himself of his shirt and leather wear as well and removed the straps around Glorfindel's body. When they were both naked, they lay down next to each other, their hands close, their legs strangely bent and entwined, and their heads touching. They said nothing but lay there until they had both fallen asleep.


	21. The Shire

_The following chapter does not depict normal or healthy sexual activities! Talking with the partner about their preferences and about the activities involved in sex play is pivotal. Constant communication and reassuring the wellbeing of the partner(s) is of uttermost importance._

**Content warning: romantic.  
**

* * *

The ride past Weathertop was less exciting than anticipated. The grass and bushes on the watchpost were burnt and they did not need the skills of the readers of tracks to interpret the many paths that lead to and from the landmark. Many creatures had followed Morgoth's summoning and set out with the Dark Lord towards the East.

Glorfindel feared for the elves that had been residing peacefully at the Grey Havens, building ships for those that sought a life East and keeping out of the troubles that befell Middle-Earth. They did not reach the coast to see that something terrible had already happened. Not even near Bree, they already saw the piles of smoke reaching to the sky at the horizon. King Thranduul commanded to increase the pace, but even he knew that they were most probably too late. They rested only a few hours at night, and there was no singing or story-telling, only silent supper and silent sleep. Neither Glorfindel nor Thranduil uttered a word about their intimate relation, even when they were alone and sleeping very close to each other.

When they passed Bree, Glorfindel hardly recognised the once so multicultural village. By now, it had been reduced to a homogeneous pile of rubble. They could not tell apart the Hobbits from the Dwarves or the Men from the Elves for that most bodies had been mutilated or stomped to death by a multitude of heavy feet.

At first they had hope to find survivors, but in the end, the dishearted elves climbed back onto their horses again and continued their ride in silence. Legolas had been asked by Thranduil to ride next to him, and he obeyed; neither of them had spoken a word though. Glorfindel felt uneasy with father and son not talking, but it was not his place to mention anything. Even the twins of Elrond kept their silence. The death of their father had begun to break even their usually happy nature.

The only sound that could be geard was the pace of the horses feet, the movement of the elves in their saddles, and the wind in the air. About a day from Eastfarthing, it began to rain. And as the saying goes, it poured. No one commented the sudden change of weather, and the mood dampened even more. The elves continued their trip without any change of action, they had come past caring. The only positive outcome was that the fires that they had spotted began to be extinguished.

It was early evening, but the sun was already setting, when the first legion arrived at Hobbiton - or rather, what was left of it. Most structures that had been built of wood were nothing more than piles of smoldering logs. Puddles that formed had mixed the ashes with the earth and left the ground covered in grey mud. The fields had been devastated as if hundreds and hundreds of Orcs had rushed through them - which was probably exactly what had happened. The air was thick and the elves put wet cloths over their mouths and noses. Foul smell was in their air and the smoke hurt their eyes.

Legolas slid inelegantly down from his horse. He had been friends with Hobbits and Dwarves, he had even been to Hobbiton once or twice. Seeing it now burnt to ashes was an additional toll on his heart. With wobbly knees he walked towards the rests of once had been a famous inn and pub. Like the other elves, he started to dig into the piles of rubble and try to uncover whatever lay beneath them. Something that could tell a story of the disaster that had come to pass in this land.

But soon, the cries of all elves were the same, "no bodies!" and "there are no bodies here!" and "I found a dead rabbit!" and "that one was dead before, you fool!".

Legolas fell onto his knees. The mud splashed aside, but he was covered in it already. His clothes hung soaked on his body and his hair stuck to his face. "No deaths... they fled," he muttered.

King Thranduil gathered all Captains and Lords on the former market place. The elves waded through mud and debris, nothing had been left intact, not even a hammer or a knife was found on the ground.

As for a while no one spoke, Glorfindel suddenly realised, "scorched earth."

"I beg you pardon?", a woodland Captain asked.

"Scorched Earth Policy," Glorfindel repeated louder.

"It's a tactic used by Men centuries ago. When anticipating an inevitable strike by the enemy, the Men burnt down their own villages, destroyed all roads and bridges and tools and food and everything that could serve the enemy once they had reached their land. That way, the enemy cannot scavenge the villages and stock up their own food supplies," Elrohir explained.

"It served moderately well even against Orc armies that had plagued Men in the second age. Our dad - our dad had been the one to introduce this tactic to them," Elladan added.

"I am not aware that any dwarf or Hobbit would be aware of it," Erestor muttered.

They all looked at the desolation around them. There was indeed nothing of use left.

"That would explain why there are no bodies here," Legolas commented. If there was the smallest possibility of hope, he wanted to cling to it. He needed anything that he could count on as his thoughts were shattered like a glass on the ground. He could not think straight and everything and nothing was happening at the same time. While riding, he could barely name his thoughts and the past days felt like a smear of rain on the window. He did not feel the cold or the rain on his skin. He was soaked wet and dirty, but he cared for nothing. All he hoped for was to get his revenge on the blue wizard for taking his love from him. And the more Orcs he would slaughter on the way, the better.

"If the followers of Morgoth's army cannot replenish their food supply, they might start to eat each other," an Imladris Captain said.

"But where is everyone?" another Captain asked.

"Hiding," Thranduil suggested. "Out of the way of Morgoth. They must have known that they did not stand a chance."

"But can you imagine the dwarves withdraw?" Glorfindel asked. He was still doubting the whole explanation. "There must have been a voice of reasoning here. But I for my part cannot imagine a dwarf with reasoning."

"We will find out what occured one way or the other. For now, we should continue on our way west. We have wasted too much time here already," Thranduil concluded. It was enough to send the heads of the troops back and within an hour, they were all saddled again and heading towards the Grey Havens.

They passed more smoldering fields and debris and burnt down houses on their way. The rain was doing a great job on extinguishing the flamed, but there was nothing alive anywhere to be seen. The landscape looked like a battle field that had surrendered uncondiionally to the yellow-red warriors. The tree in Bag End was still standing but the leaves had all burnt and the trunk looked grey and sad and fragile.

Legolas did not know whether he was actually crying or not for his cheeks were wet anyway. Even Glorfindel could only swallow hard at the sight of the once so merry Hobbit settlements. He was reminded of the fall of Gondolin and how the elf-kingdom had been reduced to nothing but legend. He hung his head and focused on the road instead. His blonde mane, which he usually kept open and flying in the wind, was tied into a braid that clung to his soaked clothings. Elves could not feel the cold, but it was an emotional cold that overcame them now.

They travelled until they had come to the first hills before the Blue Mountains and it had become too dark even for an elf to see. As they feared to be ambushed by the enemy, they did not lit fires. In silence, they nibbled their bread and lay down. It had not stopped raining and the earth was soaking wet. Most elves had realised, that as dirty as they were, it would not make a difference anymore, so they chose their wet bags as a pillow and lay down. Night guards walked around to keep looking for the enemy and to make sure no landslide or puddles would drown the elves in their sleep. Many elves, however, among them also Legolas, Glorfindel, and the twins, could not find any rest that night. Glorfindel decided to take voluntary watch, the twins cuddled with each other very close to spend some solace, and Legolas finally managed to cry himself to sleep, even though it was only an hour before sunrise.

The night was without further incidents, and in the morning, the sun reappeared. But when they saw the White Tower and the city of the Grey Havens appear behind the Blue Mountains around which they rode, they knew that Morgoth had been here. The White Tower had been turned into a torch that the rain had extinguished by now. The land was barren and dead, but already from afar they could spot the corpses. The closer they came, the more bodies they recognised. Most had been reclaimed by the wet earth and were muddy. They paved the way and became impossible not to tread on. It was not only elves from the Grey Havens that lay here, but Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits were among the fallen. However, they did not count even nearly enough bodies to account for all citizens living between Bree and here. They did not rest to discuss the matter or to search for survivors though.

They rode on until they the first riders were halfway through the city, when an elf of the last troop suddenly blew her horn. Everyone stopped, and Thranduil and Glorfindel looked at each other. Had they walked into a trap?

"You stay here," the king ordered his son and the Peredhel twins. He and Glorfindel turned and made their way through the soldiers who stepped away to let their commanders pass.

It took them a good half an hour to reach the end of the joined Elf troops and it did not look like they were being attacked which eased Glorfindel's mind a bit. But suddenly, when passing the last lines, and coming around piles of rubble and debris which once must have been a noble guesthouse, he could not believe his eyes. There were maybe two dozen of dwarves and hobbits, all in battle armour, as well as several Men standing in front of them. And behind them, an army of even more Western folk came trotting down from a hiding place in the Blue Mountains, making their way for the coastline.

But what caught Glorfindel's eyes then, he could not believe and needed to blink several times and pinch himself. There, among the Small People, stood a very tall person, taller than the rangers and the Men who had come for aid. Unlike the others, he was dressed in white robes, and he had long, open brown hair, and a kind smile on his face.

"Elrond," Glorfindel muttered in disbelief and demounted his horse. "Elrond!" he repeated and began storming towards his old friend. He stopped right in front of him, hesitant to approach him. "Is it... is it you?" he asked, too scared to hope.

"It is me, my friend, and I shall greet you from Mandos," the half-elf replied and opened his arms. Glorfindel did not realise how tears ran down his cheeks when he entered the hug of the Peredhel. He embraced him long and deeply; he had never thought he would become so emotional.

"Was it... you... with the idea of the scorched earth policy?" Glorfindel asked and stepped back.

Thranduil had now also climbed off his horse and joined them.

Elrond nodded. "There was no point in fighting. And after some persuasion, the Hobbits did come to terms with the sad idea that the only way for their civilisation to continue was to destroy everything they had."

"The lack of supplies and food did slow the enemy down," a red-haired dwarf added. He was standing close to the half-elf and just reached half of his height. "Maim is my name, son of Dern. At your service," he added and bowed. "Many men were weakened when they arrived here and were easy to kill. Not so much luck with the Orcs and Wargs and Birds. They headed North, and our spies found that there were dozens of ships carried from the dark woods to the water."

"It seems like the enemy is ahead of us and we can only hope that we will not come too late," Elrond agreed. "For that we must leave right away."

"Leave to where? There are no ships here at the harbour," Thranduil suddenly found his voice again. He, too, was very glad about Elrond's rebirth; it relieved him of the duty of caring for his grieving son which he found he would not have been able to.

"We sent messengers ahead to the elves of the Grey Havens. They hid the boats south from here. I will guide you. The dwarves and men and hobbits have all agreed to join us. At the end of all times, the people of Middle-Earth shall stand together," Elrond said, and while he talked, he pointed to a path along the south side of the gulf. "We must hurry," he added.

Thranduil and Glorfindel agreed. They recalled the head of the troop to the end and set out for a new way towards the hidden ships. Maim led the party, and the Hobbits and Dwarves and Men followed the elves.

Legolas, however, climbed down from his horse at the sight of Elrond and made two steps towards him before he sacked down and fell into his knees. Elrond rushed forwards and when he helped his lover up, his own robes became muddy and dirty at the bottom. Legolas cried a river and leaned into Elrond, just leaning and crying. Now, also the top part of Elrond's clothing became stained. He did not care. He simply put his arms around the blonde elf and let him cry. Neither of them cared for the soldiers who rode or walked past them. Neither of them cared for anything for a little while.

When Legolas sobs had died, he dared to look into the grey eyes of his love. Elrond gently fondled his cheek. "I returned for the battle of all battles. We will defeat Morgoth and then we can live the rest of our life together in peace", the Peredhil said.

"But your wife... Celebrían...," Legolas stammered and burst into tears again.

"I have never loved her like I love you," Elrond said and bent forward. He pressed his lips on Legolas' for a gentle kiss like he had never experienced before.


	22. Dagor Dagorath

Chapter 22

The sails were set, and the elves boarded calmly. They could still make out the enemy fleet at the horizon, so they hurried. It was a hurry unlike any dwarf would understand: a tranquil hurry. What would chaos bring them? When they had all stepped aboard, there was still room left. First, the men joined them and then some dwarves. Not all of them were willing to risk their lives for their once so great enemy and some were frightened by the prospect of not returning to their beloved middle-Earth. But then, some hobbits, mainly descendants from the late Peregrin Took, also hopped onto the wooden sailing vessels.

The journey was long, but Elrond spent most of it below decks. He had his own small quarters apart from the other elves who were crouching with the dwarves and men and hobbits. The wise half-elf wished the voyage would last forever as he was finally happy with Legolas. He did not think about how to break this to his wife or what would expect them at the shores. But sooner than he had hoped an elf shouted "land!" and everyone rushed to the upper deck. It was not so much land but rather fire. Elrond's heart dropped at once. Aman was burning. Alqualondë was already reduced to a pile of smouldering rubble. Tol Eresseä, a small hill in the water just before the coast, was set alight like a beacon. The closer the ships came, the more details the arriving warriors could make out: Elves screaming, orcs scavenging, houses burning, acres treaded down.

Elrond's eyes were filled with tears and his cheeks wet when he put on his battle armour. He had last time worn this when encountering the Nazgûl at Dol Guldur. He looked to Legolas whose eyes were red as well. His face was filled with anger that did not match the fair stature of his lover. His once green clothing was dirty with soil and blood, but he was obviously lusting for more.

"We will make them pay," he whispered to Elrond. "We will avenge middle-Earth and Aman and everyone who has fallen at their hands. Together, we shall fight until the end, until every orc is slain and Melkor is not among the living anymore. And if it is the last thing we do." He bent forward and kissed Elrond one last time before the boat was reaching the coast line of Aman. Some boats went to Alqualondë to see what could be saved, but theirs was harbouring at Tirion from which also smoke columns were rising into the evening sky.

"I would hold a long speech to boost our spirits, but the chances are small, and the view is grim," Elrond shouted so that everyone would hear him. "Middle-earth was already left a battle ground, and now our enemy is attacking our Promised Land. We cannot much save our fields, our acres, our wives, our husbands or our children for nothing is sacred to him. Hence our motif shall be revenge. Revenge those of your family, your kin, your beloveds who have fallen. Revenge the fields and houses that Melkor and his servants have burnt. Revenge Lothlórien for having been the first elven kingdom to have fallen. Revenge Gondor for having been the first war that we lost. Revenge the Iron Hills for having been the first to succumb to the rising power of the East. Revenge Frodo who had been our last hope to save our lands and who had failed because of the betrayal of the Istari. Revenge Mithrandir and Aiwendil for having been the only Istari true to their mission. Revenge everything you hold dear. Revenge!"

And with that the boats ran upon the sand and the elves and men and dwarves and hobbits jumped into the shallow waters in an alliance that would have been impossible years ago. Their battle cries were heard up to Valmar, a city beyond the Pelóri mountain wall, where Celebrían was running hopelessly away from the Two Trees in a desperate hope for salvation. She could hear the screams of her elven kin being slain and she feared for that every single living creature had already met their end in middle-Earth. But when she heard the yells of attack and of vengeance, she turned around. Her Elven eyes could not see so far, but her heart told her that her husband had finally followed her.

"Elrond," she muttered and suddenly her fighting spirit returned. She held her sword high and met the attacking goblins. Hence, the fleeing elves turned around and fought their way for everyone had a beloved who had not set over the sea yet. And so it was between Valmar and Tirion that Elrond and Celebrían finally saw each other again. Their gazes met among the burning trees, the plundering Orcs, the courageous hobbits and valiant dwarves that fought for the elves' realm. Even the Valar and among them the eight mightiest, the Aratar, were fighting with all their power. One after another, the cities fell, the acres burnt, the Maiar came to aid, but died like the Istari who had dwelt in the physical world.

Elrond ran towards his wife out of duty and guilt, but when he arrived, she was pierced by many arrows and sacked into his arms. "My…," was all he could say before he broke and sacked onto his knees. She wanted to tell him something, but her eyes died before she could mouth a word. "Revenge," Elrond muttered, "for there is nothing else left in this world."

"I am," Legolas shouted at him. The young elf princeling was rushing by, spending arrow after arrow but replenishing his supply with the many arrows that were stuck in the fair elven bodies.

"For you then," Elrond decided and stood up. "For our love to endure. We will build a new place." He swung his sword again, and at that moment, a lightening stroke the Two Trees so bright and powerful that the whole sky was set alight. And in the flash that broke the trees and split their trunks into many pieces, the last warriors of the prophecy appeared: **Eärendil**, Elrond's biological father and sailor of the sky with a Silmaril, for he had to avenge that Melkor had kept both sun and moon from returning. All the light that was still illuminating the battlefield, was the fire of the beautiful continent. Next to him had appeared with the flash **Túrin**, a man who had committed suicide in the First Age but was now set to end all evil. Behind them appeared **Manw****ë**, leader of the Ainur and King of Arda, and **Eonwë**, his Maia servant and banner-bearer.

All four of them looked at the terror that unfolded in the sacred lands and grabbed their swords and began to fight the orcs and goblins and creatures of shadow. Elrond ran towards Valmar where the greatest shadow of all was fought in the ruins of the city. Melkor was standing on the highest tower and killing everyone who came close to him. Legolas' arrows rebounded with no effect and the spears just went through the powerful Valar. It was then that a second flash came down onto the marketplace of the city: Tulkas, an Ainur who needs no weapon, came down and began to wrestle the evil creatures with his bare hands.

"All is fulfilled for the Second Prophecy," Elrond muttered. At that moment, Manwë and Eonwë rushed past him to join the desperate fight.

Eärendil, however, stopped next to him. "My son," he said, and a tear dropped from his eye.

"Father?" Elrond asked. He had hardly any memory left of him. And while father and son finally united could hug and be one, Túrin, the earliest Man-hero reached the highest tower to engage Melkor, the earliest villain of the entire Eä.

"You have plunged the world into darkness after darkness and all the shadows that have ever existed were your doing," Túrin spoke at which Melkor only laughed.

"I am the rightful Lord over the world, and I shall be its ruler for evermore," Melkor answered at this and attacked.

Túrin was a good swordsman, and for his reincarnation Mandos had given him greater power. Therefore, after a long fight that lasted the rest of the night, he succeeded in stabbing Melkor with Gurthang. His heart burst and the mighty Lord fell to the ground. His scream was so loud that it could be heard in the Shire of Middle-Earth if only there had been anyone left. When he fell, the earth trembled like an earthquake and when his body hit to the ground, it shattered into a million pieces.

His death went not unnoticed and so all vile and dark creatures fell to the ground and began begging for their lives. Many were spared and brought to justice. But the blood that had been spent and soaked the soil could never be undone. And so the battle of all battles came to an end and the darkest evil was eradicated from Eä.

The shouts and celebration of victory, however, failed to appear for even the dwarves just fell onto their knees, tired and in despair. So much had been lost, so many lives sacrificed. There was never a winner in war. The days, the weeks that came were spent in silence as the bodies were taken care of, messengers were sent, fires were put out, that which could be salvaged, was taken, and cities had to be cleared of rubble and built anew. And so it came that all remaining folk of Middle-earth and Aman came to a necessary peace and even more than that: They all worked together to create a new Paradise, the Undying Lands. And not only Aman was rebuilt, so was The Shire and Gondor and Rohan and the forests. All was redone and renamed and all who survived remembered the toil and pain that were the columns of their new civilisation.

Time passed and generations of men as well, but the elves and dwarves and Valar stayed. And so, after far too long a wait, many weddings took place in the new biggest city of Aman, beneath the new Two Trees that had been planted: Elrond Eärendilion and Legolas Thranduilion finally wed, and Galion and Lindir who had found love during the worst of times.

"I would have never thought I could become so happy in my life," Legolas noted when the party was at its highest point and everyone was drinking Dorwinion and Shire brew.

"Maybe so," Thranduil said. "But there is something I have to tell you," he added with heavy heart and sighed. "Your mother never died."

Before Legolas could take in enough air to react, Thranduil raised his hand. "I will explain, my son, but please, be not angry. The times were different and what was allowed and what was frowned upon was complicated. You see, now that Galadriel is dead, I want you to know that the marriage between Galadriel and Celeborn had been forced upon them by Finarfin, father of Galadriel, who had been very strict. Before that, Celeborn and I had a relationship. At a time when he was still openly allowed to be a female. Then he was to wed Galadriel, who is actually a man. And when she [Celeborn] gave birth to you, it would have been a scandal that would have denied us not only passage to Aman, but we would have also been banished from all the discovered lands. So we kept it secret. And I kept it a secret from you which I should not have done. I am sorry and I hope you can forgive me, my son."

Legolas' mouth was still open when Elrond forced it shut. "I…," he stammered. "Oh father, why have you never told me? I have always been so angry at you for keeping my mother out of my life, I would have understood you better!" And he jumped into the open arms of his father, and finally, they became father and son as they should have been centuries ago.

And when the sun rose again, which they thanked for every morning as they remembered a time when it had not, they all had sex.

The end.

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